Just The Way You Are
by fukuji mihoko
Summary: A light-hearted joke goes terribly wrong when Beato turns Battler into a girl, much to his displeasure. To comfort Battler, Ronove also sacrifices his gender- but this leaves Battler feeling horribly confused over Beato's pretty new maid. :Battler/Ronove:
1. Chapter 1

**Just ****The ****Way ****You ****Are  
><strong>Chapter One

* * *

><p>It was a nice, quiet day in the meta world.<p>

Six of the seven stakes were still fast asleep in their respective beds, dreaming lovely dreams about maiming and mutilation (Satan) or actually being respected for once (Lucifer and Leviathan) or eating Ronove's delicious cookies (Beelzebub). Mammon shifted constantly as she slept, flailing her arms like an octopus. Asmodeus, meanwhile, had her twiggy little arms wrapped tightly round her soft, pink polka-dot pillow, and she was making small 'nya~' noises under her breath as she dreamed of her prince carrying her away.

The one stake not accounted for in the above description, Belphegor, was curled up in a distant corner of the meta world far away from her sisters, a book in hand and glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, because she had rather poor eyesight. It was a hindrance that had developed over years upon years of reading under the dark of her blankets so her sisters didn't see her or tease her.

Virgilia and Beatrice were having tea in the main atrium of Beato's meta world. The white, octagonal room was where Battler and Beato held their epic chess matches _to__the__death_. Now, however, the heavy atmosphere of the room had been lifted as the two half-asleep witches (then again, Virgilia always looked half-asleep) reminisced nostalgically and sipped their tea. It was a homey image- a mother and estranged daughter having a long overdue conversation after almost a century.

It was obvious how much Beato trusted her teacher by the small smile on her face. She never looked that unguarded around anybody else. Her opponents only ever saw insane grins or manic leers twisting her otherwise pretty face.

Ronove, as always, was in the kitchen. His sleeves were folded up and he was slowly, methodically, washing all the dirty dishes and teacups in the sink by hand. Rainbow-refracting bubbles of soapy washing up liquid drifted lazily in the air.

Ronove could have used magic to complete the task, but he found it more relaxing to do it by hand. Plus, eliminating magic from mundane tasks also eliminated the chance of accidentally turning a stray teacup into a hedgehog, or something else equally bizarre.

It might have sounded laughable, crockery being transformed into animals, but it _had_happened a few times before; mainly when Beelzebub got too over-enthusiastic trying to help out in the kitchen ('_if__ I __clean __these __dishes __will __you __bake __me __cookies?~__'_)

Trying to catch Beato's favorite teapot after Beelzebub had somehow transformed it into a rabbit had been _fun_. It was a good job Beelzebub hadn't turned the teapot into a larger animal, like a tiger; _that_would have been tricky to deal with.

Fortunately, there were no teapots-to-rabbits Alice in Wonderland-esque incidents occurring in the kitchen that morning (using the term vaguely).

All was still.

All was silent.

All was calm.

Until…

"_FUUUUUUUUUCK_!"

Of course, with quiet openings like the one described above, there's _always _an 'until'.

You were probably expecting it.

If you weren't, you should have been, and shame on you.

The sound echoed throughout the meta world so profoundly all six sleeping stakes were aroused from their slumber, whilst Asmodeus' arms clenched round her pillow so tightly her dream Prince Charming was crushed into pancakes and blood dribbled out of his mouth.

Virgilia's eyes widened, the pupils constricting, so she no longer half-asleep and smiley; instead, she looked kind of _terrifying._

Ronove (horror of horrors) very nearly dropped a plate he was holding.

And, somewhere in the courts of heaven, a lowly third class priest called Cornelia tripped over her own feet and crashed, head-first, into the fish tank. Whether her accident had anything to do with that loud shout or her own natural clumsiness remained to be seen.

Beatrice was the only one who seemed completely unfazed by this loud scream of horror. Grinning wolfishly, she reclined in her chair- pipe in hand- and said, "Ahhh~ It seems Battler has finally woken up."

* * *

><p>"Beatrice, you bitch! What the hell have you <em><strong>done <strong>_to me?"

"Yes," said Virgilia, looking between the demonically grinning Beatrice and the red-faced, significantly more adorable than usualBattler, "I am very curious about that as well. What _did_ you do, Beato?"

"Huhhh? Even _you_can't tell, Teacher? I thought it would've been **obvious**. _These-_" Beatrice stabbed her pipe in Battler's general direction, "-are called breasts, and they're typically found on women~ Don't tell me you didn't know that, Battttlerrrr? You really are _dense_; what do they teach you in school nowadays? I bet you were sleeping through biology class all this time~ It's lucky I'm here to educate you! Gyahahaha!"

Battler gritted his teeth together. A heavy blush spread across his cheeks, until it looked like his whole head was on fire.

He wouldn't simply stand there and let Beato insult him like that.

He _wouldn__'__t._

Despite his new appearance he was still _Ushiromiya__Battler_ and, fuck it, he was going to stand up for himself and his male pride regardless of how Beato tried to tear to pieces and trample it in the dirt- and fuck it, she'd done a pretty damn good job of it this time.

No matter.

He wouldn't give up in the face of evil (even if the 'face of evil' was a lot more adorable than it had any right to be).

He would succeed.

He _had_ to.

That was why he stabbed a finger in her face and started to shout.

"I-I know what breasts are, you utter, utter complete _idiot_! What I want to know is why the hell do **I**have a pair of them? I sure as hell didn't look like that yesterday!"

True to his words, Battler certainly did look far different than usual- to the point where he, physically, couldn't even be described as 'male' at all. He had the body of a rather tall, curvy teenage girl. His hair was longer than usual, though still just as unruly, and the messy birds' nest bangs kept falling in front of his face. Maybe that was a good thing, though, because it hid the look of utter revulsion in his eyes.

He probably would have made quite an attractive girl if he hadn't appeared so murderous. The look on his face was dark and twisted enough to rival Satan's on a bad day (not the devil Satan with the pitchfork; the young girl with the pale hair, who was arguably even more terrifying).

It wasn't like a mere glare would faze the Great Golden Witch, though.

"Hn?" Beatrice smiled innocently, tilting her head to one side. "Didn't you _always _look like that, Battleeer?"

"Of course I didn't, you fucking bitch, and you _know _it!"

"Ahhh~ Oh my… It seems you're right," said Beatrice, correcting herself, as she began to giggle. "I'm a little old, you see, so I forget these things easily! I definitely recall you used to be a man now, though… Ufufufu… You weren't much of a man, even then… I actually think this is an improvement! Gyahahaha!"

"I don't give a damn about what you think! I want my own body back! You've had your joke; haha, let's screw around with Battler and turn him into a girl- now put me back to normal!"

Beatrice raised a brow. "What's wrong with a being a girl, even for a little while?"

"I-"

"You better watch your words, Battlerrrr~ You're surrounded by a lot of _very_dangerous women. If you say something that could be even _slightly_ misunderstood as an insult against the fairer sex I'm sure the Seven Stakes of Purgatory would have _no_problem trying to correct your disgusting frame of mind, gyahahahaha!"

Battler folded _his_ hands defensively in front of _his_ chest (just because he looked like a girl on the outside, that didn't mean he'd stopped being a guy inside his head. Beato would _never_get inside his brain. The last time that had happened, he'd ended up naked being chomped on by goats like he was a fancy entrée at a restaurant).

"I don't have anything against women! I like women. I mean, in some cases, when they're not psychopaths. But just because I like them it doesn't mean I want to look like one! I like cake but that doesn't mean I want to fucking _become_ edible and made of chocolate, does it?"

Battler knew he was swearing a lot more than usual. Natsuhi surely would've fainted if she'd heard. Then again, he felt like he had a right.

It wasn't every day you woke up to find you had breasts.

…Unless you actually _were_ a woman, of course- in that case, you woke up to find you had breasts every day. And, actually, you went to sleep every day with boobs, too. But Battler wasn't a woman, so it was a _little_ bit problematic.

"Oh, what a pity~" said Beatrice, her lip curling. "I thought I was doing you a favour."

"H-huh…?"

"I mean, you're _always_ talking about boobs- I still haven't forgotten that 'cow tits' comment, you know. I thought maybe you were jealous, so I gave you a pair of them too!~ Gyahaha!~ And whole new body." Beatrice smirked. "Shouldn't you be grateful? Shouldn't you be thanking me on bended knee? Kyahahahaha!"

Face bright red, Battler's fingers fisted in his hair from irritation, as though trying to rip it from his scalp.

It was too long, and it was pissing him off.

In his current state, _everything_ was pissing him off. He wasn't calm enough to deal with Beato sensibly.

"It's bad enough that you're playing around with the lives of my family and friends and you expect me to be _okay_ with it, but to do **this**on top of that? What the hell is wrong with you? How the fuck am I meant to fight you properly when I'm _ever__ so __slightly _distracted by the fact you've _changed__ my__ gender _for absolutely no discernable reason other than your own amusement? I'm sure this crosses some kind of line of etiquette and manners somewhere!"

Battler's voice- already higher and softer than usual- rose to a hysterical pitch at the end of his rant.

Somewhere in the departments of heaven, Cornelia tripped over her own feet again, crashing into the fish tank (which had oh-so-thoughtfully been righted by Gertrude) again.

But Beatrice didn't find Battler's rant particularly shocking. Instead, she laughed.

"Don't take these things so seriously, Battlerrrr!~ It's just a joke."

"At _my_ expense!"

"It was a very childish thing to do, Beato," Virgilia finally spoke up, turning to give her pupil a disapproving look. "You shouldn't use magic to interfere with people like that. Witches are meant to use their powers for good, remember?"

Beatrice pouted. "But that's _boring_."

"You really do have a lot to learn, Beato. You may be one thousand years old, but in my eyes, you're still a young child."

"Exactly- whatever Virgilia said! You think you can just mess around with my life like it's some big, hilarious joke- but you know what? It _isn__'__t_!" Battler shouted, angrily brushing strands of hair out of his eyes. "How can I take you seriously as an opponent when you're always doing shit like this to me 'just for fun'? Think about other people a little more!"

This talk finally seemed to stir Beatrice out of her good humor. She winced as though she'd been slapped across the face; her hand even moving to cup her cheek.

Her eyes looked strangely downcast.

"Maybe you're the one who should think about other people a little more, _Ushiromiya__ Battler_."

"What are you talking about?"

"Beato…" Virgilia rested a comforting hand on Beatrice's shoulder, but the blonde witch shrugged it off.

When she next spoke, her voice was quiet, soft- but Battler caught every word.

"Maybe there's a _reason_ why I want you to suffer…"

There was a pause.

Then Battler, horribly embarrassed, replied; voice filled with sour vitriol.

"Yeah, I know that reason. It's because you're a horrible person. And I don't really want to spend any time with you, if you're going to treat human life in such a disrespectful manner. I've had to put up with a lot of shit from you before, and the worst thing is, this isn't one of the worst things you've done- but it's obvious you're never going to learn to see me as a worthy opponent if you screw around with me like this, so why should I see you as one? You say I should earn your respect- but maybe _you_ should try and earn mine, because you've done nothing so far except convince me you're a heartless bitch!"

And with that, Battler turned his back on Beatrice… and disappeared in a burst of golden butterflies.

Beatrice bit down on her lower lip, blue eyes misty.

Virgilia sighed softly once more and shook her head.

"What have you done this time, Beato?"

Beatrie sniffed. "Shut up, Teacher."

* * *

><p>"I-it's stupid!" Beatrice said angrily, fingers clenched into fists. "I-I don't understand why he's so mad anyway! That spell will wear off in a few days anyway!"<p>

"Far be it from me to disagree with you, Milady," said Ronove smoothly, "but I believe Battler has every right to be angry in this situation."

"But I've done way worse things to him in the past and he didn't react like that!"

"Ah… That's not a good attitude to have when dealing with other people. In my opinion, Battler has been very mature, trying to fight you fairly even though your actions must have upset him greatly. This small act might have been enough to finally make him snap."

"S-something that small… could upset somebody?" Beatrice pouted. "I think he's just being childish. I hate boring people who can't take a joke."

"Magic doesn't exist in the human world, Milady," said Ronove patiently. "What may seem like a joke to you would be incredibly distressing to a normal human."

"You're the one who's being childish, Beato. You won't earn Battler's respect by doing needlessly cruel things to him," Virgilia agreed.

Beatrice glared. "S-shut up, both of you! I don't need your advice!"

"Because your relationship with Battler has been going _wonderfully_ without it."

"When I said shut up I meant it, Teacher! I don't care what Battler thinks of me- I really don't. If I wanted him to like me I wouldn't be playing this game with him in the first place. I'm his _enemy_, not his friend- or anything else!"

"I would like to believe you," said Ronove, "but it is quite difficult to do so when you're acting so… upset."

"It's _complicated_."

"I understand that, and appreciate the situation you're in- but I feel you're making it rather _more _complicated than it has to be. Forgive me for saying, Milady, but you're not the most rational of people, pu ku ku~"

Beatrice gritted her teeth together, pinching the bridge of her nose with her fingertips.

It looked like she going to shout, scream; prove to Virgilia and Ronove she really was the stubborn, obstinate child they claimed she was.

But she didn't.

When she next spoke her voice was soft, quiet.

Defeated.

Miserable.

It was the voice of somebody who had stayed up all night running thousands of possibilities over in their mind, and still did not know what to do.

"There's no point in trying to make him like me. I did that once before… and look what happened. It's much better if he hates me. Really. That's… what I want."

Ronove and Virgilia smiled sadly, exchanging looks over the top of Beato's head. Despite her airs and graces, she really was quite the pitiful young child.

"So you've decided to get Battler's attention by upsetting him and making him feel uncomfortable?" Ronove asked lightly, delicately.

"I think, perhaps, it's similar to when young children get crushes and they don't know how to express it. It results in name calling and hair pulling," Virgilia said, giggling softly. "In this situation, though… it's a little different."

"It's a _lot_different," said Beatrice tiredly. "Don't try and act the proud parent, Teacher; your little girl isn't 'growing up' or having her 'first love' or any other nonsense. If you say something to that effect again I'll do something worse to you than merely changing your gender. Do you remember the pain you felt when you got impaled by my towers, huhh, do you?"

Virgilia winced slightly.

"Perhaps you shouldn't be so cruel to Miss Virgilia, Milady. She _is_only trying to cheer you up."

"Well, I don't _want_ to be cheered. I was trying to have a little fun, and then Battler went and ruined everything. I didn't think he'd react that way! B-but… I don't care even if he is miserable, because I want him to be unhappy. I-I… don't want to change him back; I don't have to- and he deserves a little pain and embarrassment! He deserves to suffer, after everything _he_did- and he can't even remember… T-that's why men are so _horrible_."

"I am also male, Milady."

Beatrice pouted. "Whatever. I am now officially _uncheerable_."

"Pu ku ku… I'm not sure if that's even a word."

"Well, whatever. It doesn't matter. I just… I…"

Beatrice broke off with a sigh. Absently, eyes vacant, she began to coil a strand of blonde hair round one finger. She looked deep in thought.

A thoughtful Beatrice never heralded good news.

"Milady…?"

"Hey, Ronove." Contrary to her forceful tone, Beatrice was looking up under her lashes shyly. Her fingers fisted round her skirts, creasing the heavy material. "I… Go and talk to Battler for me, would you? Try to make amends. Or something. I don't know." She shrugged. "You're good at that diplomatic stuff."

Ronove bowed his head, smiling softly. "Certainly, Milady. I will apologize on your behalf."

Beatrice's face flushed.

"H-hey, wait- t-that's not what I wanted you to do, I-"

But her stuttered reply fell on deaf ears.

Ronove had already left.

* * *

><p><strong>an:** Um, yeah, /another/ multichap Ronove/Battler fic, but there is quite a bit of Beato/Battler in here too because obviously it's a pairing you can't get away from or ignore XD~ And I love Beato too ufufu 3

Um, and the concept of genderbending is kind of interesting. Mostly it doesn't appeal to me at all, because it seems to me a lot of people, when changing a character's gender, completely overhaul their personality as well, thus turning them into a whole new person. I'll try not to do that. And I'm not gonna start calling Battler a 'she' in narration because, technically, he's still a guy. Gender identification is also a problem with some of these stories, I think, and it wouldn't suddenly change like that, would it? ._.ll

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it ^_^; This is just the start, it should get more interesting later~

**~renahhchen****xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Just**** The ****Way ****You ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Two

* * *

><p>"Kyahh!~ Battler, you're so cuuute!"<p>

"Can we dress you up, can we, can we? You're so adorabubble I can't help it!~"

"Can we call you big sister?"

"Yes!, can we? Luci and Satan aren't very nice big sisters. I think _you'd_ make a much better substitute!"

"Plus, we can stab you when~ev~errr we want and you won't even be able to fight back, you're such a spineless man!"

"Pfft… And now you're not even that! Gyahaha!~"

"Yesss, I want to impale myself inside your lovely, warm chest right now..."

"And glut myself with all your delicious, delactabubble blood~"

"Delatabubble, big sis? Really?"

"It makes words more interesting when you mix them up a bit, kihihi~ Frankensteining your vocabulary is omega fun- you should try it, Asmo!"

"Ehehe, maybe I will... but we have more important matters to attend to, Beelze!~"

"Of course, ufufufu!~ Aaaah, Battlerrr, your chest looks so soft and inviting! I'm drooling just thinking about it!"

""Kyahahahaha!~""

Battler tried to remain calm, he really did. However, living in a nightmarish fantasy world of watching his family die over and over again, _then_being eaten alive by goat-headed butlers,_then_being stabbed to death multiple times by Beato's entourage of magical stake girls,_ then _being shoehorned into the body of a girl overnight and waking up with one (or two) nasty surprises, and _then_being taunted endlessly about his new appearance by first Beatrice and _now_ the two youngest of those big-boobed sisters, was simply too much.

Any normal person probably would've cracked under that pressure.

Actually, any normal person would never have found themselves in such a situation at all, but it was best not to dwell on that.

Asmodeus and Beelzebub's actions _definitely_ counted as provocation. They were pouring salt onto already stinging wounds until they were rubbed red raw. Battler could hardly be held as the master of his own actions in such circumstances. So... if Battler reached over and ripped Beelzebub's windpipe with his teeth that wasn't murder at all- he had been _provoked_.

Any jury would have agreed with him.

Luckily, Battler didn't go quite far. He wasn't the windpipe devouring type.

That was Beelzebub's thing.

Instead, Battler did something far,_far_ worse- something so inexplicably insane that, even despite the long string of unfortunate circumstances that had led to his shaky mental state, perhaps a normal human being would not have done it after all.

"K-kyahh, Battler! What are you doing? That was mean!"

Yes, that's right.

Ushiromiya Battler actually _threw __a __pillow _at Beelzebub's face.

How abhorrently evil.

"Get. _Out_."

The voice that came from Battler's lips was the sort of sound that made liquid nitrogen sound lukewarm. His frosty tones even managed to surprise Battler himself. He hadn't ever been aware he could speak like _that_.

Maybe it would've been useful a couple of times in the past when Rudolf needled him about his complete and utter inability to get a girlfriend for longer than a week.

Battler thought he'd probably picked that tone of voice up from Virgilia. She was usually so well-natured and pleasant, but when she was berating Beatrice she instantly turned into one of the scariest people Battler had ever met; even more so than the seven big-boobed sisters, who seemed more lovably evil in a 'we're just carrying out orders, now close your eyes and this won't hut a bit~' way than cold-blooded killers.

That didn't mean Beelzebub and Asmodeus weren't really, _really_ pissing Battler off, though.

Wailing, the two young stake sisters grabbed hold of each other, nuzzling their heads together like penguins trying to retain heat.

"Kyahh!~ Battler is so mean!" sobbed Asmodeus.

"He's the worst!" Beelzebub agreed, nodding so violently her blonde curls went bounce-bounce-bounce in an almost hypnotizing manner.

"He looks so cute and pretty now, but he doesn't know how to treat a lady at all!"

"Or how to act like one!"

"It's such a waste of a pretty face!"

Battler grit his teeth together, left eye twitching. He'd develop a nervous tic at this rate. If this ordeal with Beato and her meta companions resulted in a serious medical condition, he was going to sue the Golden Witch for all she was worth.

... ...Was it possible to sue a person who might not have existed?

Whatever.

Why was he even dwelling on that, anyway?

Battler's fingers tightened into fists. He was nearing the point where punching one (or both) of the two giggling sisters was beginning to seem like a very attractive idea. Even so, despite his anger, something about that thought sickened him slightly.

Battler thought he'd managed to keep the moral high ground pretty well during his stay in the meta world. He didn't want to throw that vague sense of self-satisfaction away over something so trivial.

Besides, Asmodeus and Beelzebub (known collectively as 'Asmobub') may have looked like teenage girls (and very curvy, pretty ones at that), but they rarely acted it. Battler had seen Asmodeus curled up in corners by herself on occasion, twisting her hair round her finger as she read books- usually fairytales, with happily ever after endings. There was something incredibly endearing and non-threatening about her when she was smiling to herself whilst thinking of her Prince Charming. Most of the time Asmodeus came across as a naïve, love-struck young girl; hardly a real threat. Beelzebub was almost as immature as her younger sister, with those physics-defying blonde curls and that innocent love of food… when it didn't involve using bits and pieces of human body parts to get the _perfect_ taste.

Asmobub may have been aggravating, but they weren't inherently _evil_; Battler was sure of that. How could he hit two cute young girls so heartlessly? It'd be just like punching his baby sister.

No matter what Battler physically looked like, he still held men shouldn't hit girls (unless said girl was trying to attack him with a chainsaw, or something). It just wasn't right.

Damn chivalry, rearing its head at the worst moments.

Battler sighed.

Breathed in heavily.

He would be the calm, mature one- a real big brother figure, just like he was to Ange.

Slowly, he counted to ten inside his head.

Tried to calm his rising temper.

_Breathe __in._

_Breathe__ out._

_You__ are __relaxed._

_You__ are __tranquil._

_You__ are-_

"-the absolute cutest girl ever!~ Kyahahahahaha!"

"_Argh_!"

If Battler had to pinpoint the moment when his already threadbare nerves finally snapped, it was probably then.

The loud, strangled scream was testament to that.

Fortunately, Battler's fist never actually made contact with Asmodeus' cute little face.

That was because something had held him back at the last moment.

"I understand your anger, Battler, but violence rarely solves anything~"

No, not just something- _someone_.

Battler looked up with wide eyes to see who had hold of his fist. He wasn't sure who'd been expecting to see, really- but that smooth voice, with the subtly teasing undercurrent, sounded incredibly familiar.

The person the voice belonged to looked incredibly familiar, too...

It was a young woman. She was undeniably pretty- maybe even beautiful, to the point where a Victorian novelist would've had a field day trying to describe her. However, this is not a Victorian novel and the woman who had hold of Battler was not Lucy Westenra, so I'll be brief. To cut a long story short, the woman had rather pale skin, long black hair, pursed lips and perhaps the bluest eyes Battler had ever seen (not that he spent a long time staring at people's eyes- nobody does). She was smiling.

It was the smile, deceptively polite, slightly mischievous, that was the first clue as to the woman's real identity.

The monocle was second.

The maid outfit might have been third- but by this point, Battler was too busy trying not to have a heart attack to pay any more attention to the disturbingly pretty 'woman' standing close (a little _too_close; it was always a little too close) to him.

Battler's mouth fell open.

He _stared_.

Then, finally, he managed to speak.

"Y-you're... shorter than me... like that... you know. You're usually a little taller, so, um... Y-yeah... Ahaha..."

"Hm? Oh, it's just by an inch or two. I'm not sure why that's the case, but I don't suppose it's particularly important." A bright smile. "Is that all you have to say?"

No, it wasn't. It wasn't at all.

But Battler didn't have the words.

Fortunately, Asmodeus did.

"Kyahh!~ Ronove! You're a _girl_!"

And she had a very nice, blunt way of phrasing it, too.

Ronove released Battler's arm. Then, he (she?) looked down at himself (_her_self?), still smiling, and gracefully patted down her (his?) skirts.

"Why, yes. I suppose I am, a bit. Isn't that funny?~ Pu ku ku..."

* * *

><p>Miraculously, Ronove was able to shoo Asmobub away in a matter of minutes. With a polite yet firm "I appreciate you're curious, but I think you're annoying Battler", Asmobub dispersed, both of them muttering mutinously under their breath about 'more competition' and 'it's just not fair.' That was how Battler and Ronove came to be left alone in Battler's bedroom (i.e. the small space Beato had allocated him in the meta world, which was not his real bedroom but was the best he had), both sat on the edge of Battler's bed.<p>

Flustered, Battler had captured a pillow and was squishing it to his chest, ingeniously trying to hide his face behind it. In contrast, Ronove looked as calm as always, that usual smile on his (her?) face.

Pronouns were beginning to get messed up in Battler's head. That was just a _little _bit worrying. If the use of pronouns was getting shaky after _two__ seconds_, then what was going to happen next?

Maybe there was something wrong with his brain.

It wouldn't have been so bad if Ronove hadn't made such an attractive girl- but he did, and he was sat right next to Battler smiling that smile that always pissed Battler off when he was a male but was strangely sweet when he was a girl (double standards were a wonderful thing), and he smelt kinda sorta like baking bread... or maybe he always smelt like that, and Battler just hadn't noticed before because he'd been too busy trying to keep away from him, but Battler was suddenly aware of it now, and it was… it was _nice_.

It was difficult thinking of somebody as male when they looked so very sweet and feminine.

"A-are... you sure you don't have a sister or something, and this is some kind of elaborate trick?" Battler said, voice muffled by the pillow.

Ronove seemed to ponder the question a few moments, as though playing along with some kind of joke, before shaking his head.

"I think I'd be aware of my sister's existence if such a person was, indeed, real. I can assure you, I'm still Ronove, 27th earl of hell, furniture to Milady, etcetera, etcetera." A smile. "I'm just taking a slightly different form right now. Being able to shape shift isn't all that uncommon amongst demons, you know."

"Y-yeah, well, among _humans_- you know, the crowd I typically hang around with- it's not something you see every day, so forgive me if I'm just a little creeped the hell out!"

"Hee~ I can imagine it would be quite a shock, but I never intended to 'creep you the hell out'." Ronove bowed her (_his!_ Inner-Battler corrected franctically seconds later, _his!_) head. "I apologize."

"Then why _do_ you look like that, then?" Battler suddenly exploded. The pillow fell from his hands and dropped on the floor with a dull _thwump_. "W-was this just a whim, to fuck around with my head? You thought I wasn't confused and disturbed _enough_already?"

"No, I-"

"You thought you wanted to join in with the 'let's gang up together and torment Battler' day Beato and her stake sisters have planned, huh? Well…" Battler demurred slightly, "I guess that's _every_ day when it comes to Beato, but it's even weirder than usual!"

"Battler-"

"Don't 'Battler' me!"

In one swift movement, Battler pushed his hands down on the bed and pushed himself into a standing position. However, the action wasn't quite as smooth as he wanted. Somehow (and he was going to blame his new body for this; not natural klutziness) Battler's feet managed to get tangled together on thin air. Oh-so-elegantly, he very nearly fell forwards head-first on the floor.

They key words being 'very nearly'- because Ronove managed to catch hold of his arm before it was too late.

Battler froze; staring at Ronove with the wide, panicked eyes of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. His face was flushed bright red with a mix of embarrassment and anger. His chest rose and fell with each heavy, laboured breath.

Ronove's fingers were circled tightly around Battler's arm- though they moved up to take his shoulders, effectively rooting him in place.

Too close...

He was a little too close there...

"Battler, please calm down," said Ronove softly, looking up at Battler from under his eyelashes. That look, coupled with the feminine voice, blue eyes and full lips, was rather more eerily seductive than it had any right to be. "It wasn't my intention to poke fun at your current state; far from it. I may tell some jokes in rather bad taste, but I like to think I'm too much of a gentleman to insult people when they're at their most vulnerable. I'm almost offended you think so poorly of me, pu ku ku~"

Battler tried to glower. Instead, it came out as a pout.

"I think 'poorly' of you 'cause the first time we met you shoved your face in mine and said all this weird shit about exchanging sweet words and making the right atmosphere!" he exclaimed. "How exactly did you want me to feel- _flattered_?"

"Well... I was merely intrigued to meet the person who had made such an impact on Milady." Ronove laughed a little sheepishly. "Maybe I went a little too far with my curiosity. I just wanted to make a strong first impression, pu ku ku~"

"Yeah, well, I think you were coming on a little _too_strong there."

"Point taken. Did I ever apologize for that?"

"Nah. I'd be more surprised if you did, though," said Battler. He wanted to remain angry, he really did- but that endearing look on Ronove's face was making it a little difficult to remain so aloof. "I'm kinda used to you demon witch people doing incredibly horrible things like it's perfectly natural, though."

"That may be the case, but I still feel I should say something. I think it would be... a comfort, perhaps, if you had some kind of ally... and I suppose that wouldn't work if you felt wary around me. So..." Ronove smiled. "I apologize. Can you forgive me?"

Battler's shoulders tensed, the blush on his cheeks intensifying.

"You know, it's a lot easier to forgive you when... w-when you look like _that_. Taking that form when talking to me is _incredibly _unfair! I-I still don't know why you've done that, damn it!"

"I thought it might put you at your ease."

"H-huh?"

"Milady ordered me to talk you... I believe she wants to apologize for her childish actions."

Battler raised a brow. "Beato said _that_?"

"Well, not exactly- not in so many words. That was my interpretation of what she said." Ronove laughed. "Sometimes what Milady doesn't say is more telling than what she does."

"And I think you're being overly idealistic. Beato, _apologize_?" Battler rolled his eyes. "That's even more unbelievable than her being a witch, ihihihi."

Sharing Battler's weak grin, Ronove said, "Maybe I am being overly optimistic- but I have known Milady for a long while, and I flatter myself in thinking I understand her moods quite well, complicated though they may me. Regardless of her true feelings, she did ask me to talk to you. I don't think she truly desired to upset you."

"Huh? She didn't want to upset me?" Battler asked, voice laden with sarcasm, as he pulled away from Ronove's grip. Gesturing towards his body for further clarification, he said, "I find that _kinda_ hard to believe. 'Specially as she thinks it's oh so fun to continuously murder my family. That's not something you do if you don't want to upset somebody."

"Or rather confused about your own feelings, perhaps...?"

"No." Folding his arms, Battler turned away from Ronove, hair shifting slightly at the motion. "I don't care how you try and spin it, your Lady is still a complete bitch."

"Ah, well, it is... difficult to explain how somebody else feels- and maybe I shouldn't bother. I wouldn't want to misrepresent Milady's feelings- and, at any rate, I might overstep my role and upset her further... but, never mind. That wasn't your question, was it?"

"No. I still want an explanation for _this_," Battler said, reaching forwards and pinching Ronove's cheek. "And it better be a good one, too. I didn't have a choice when it came to looking like a girl- what's your excuse? Is this some weird hobby I don't know about- because, honestly, it wouldn't surprise me."

"Aha, um... M-maybe, if you didn't do that... There, that's better~" Ronove gently prised Battler's fingers away from her (_his_) face, still smiling that adorable smile that was making Battler feel a little light-headed. "To simplify, I decided to take this form to comfort you. That's all, really. I thought you might be feeling somewhat unnerved, what with your body looking so different to usual, so I decided to sacrifice my own appearance to lessen your embarrassment or anger somewhat. Now you're not the only one who has to suffer- and you don't have to feel alone. Moreover-"

Inwardly Battler had to ponder who, exactly, used formal words like _moreover_ in real human speech.

"-I thought you might feel... unsafe around me, I suppose, if you had a female form and I looked like a man; especially as you seem to dislike my tendency to get a little too close, pu ku ku~"

"Wait." Battler narrowed his eyes. "You _know _you do that?"

"Yes... But I'm only teasing you~"

"Hey, wait, don't brush over it so easily! So you _know_ getting in my personal space makes me feel uncomfortable and you do it _anyway_? What was this about being a gentleman? That's such a dick move to make I don't think I even need to comment!"

"Well, I have to have fun sometimes~ I am a demon, you know. And, I have to admit, it's fun to see your flustered face~"

"...Right, I know I'm gonna sound like a stereotypical high school girl here- 'specially given this new body Beato's given me- but this moment is way too perfect not to say it. You really are a pervert."

"I beg to differ... But I digress."

"And yet you're a pervert who uses lots of long ye olde flowery words I don't fully understand." Battler groaned. "You're too confusing for me to get my head around."

"Ahh~ Now that, I will take as a compliment... Pu ku ku~ Anyway... If you have such a negative reaction to my actions when we both look male, I thought you'd feel even more unsettled if I behaved towards you as I usually do and you looked like a girl and I a man. I thought you'd feel more at ease, and less threatened, if we both had a similar appearance."

Battler frowned, tapping his fingers against his arm. "Well, I see your logic, kinda, but changing your face won't change you as a person. It might be easy for you to change your appearance, but it'll take you years to sort out that trainwreck of personality you have."

"Ahh, my, that's so cruel!~ Pu ku ku~ And here I was trying to be nice to you..."

Battler raised a brow. "There must be a catch."

"There's no catch."

"You're not going to steal my soul, are you?"

"Me? Please. That's so passé," Ronove grinned impishly, flipping strands of black hair behind her shoulder (_his, Battler, **his**- this'll get real awkward real quickly if you don't stop seeing him as a girl!)_ "I merely wanted to help. See? I _can _be a nice person at times, too. Us demons can use our powers to comfort others."

"Is that so..."

"It is so, yes. Would you like me to repeat it in red? I assure you, my motives are perfectly innocent."

"No soul stealing?"

"No soul stealing," Ronove agreed. "I wouldn't have anywhere to put it anyway, but, if you're still worried..." Ronove tilted his head to one side, blinking up at Battler with those wide, blue, innocent eyes. Adapting a rather cutsey tone of voice not all that dissimilar from Beelzebub's (in fact, they were almost indentical), Ronove asked teasingly, "You want to pinky promise on it?~"

"Ahaha, no thanks. It's... it's fine... You fucking weirdo."

Ronove pouted. "That wasn't very polite."

"W-well, you asked for it! You're _way_ too good at doing at that little girl voice- and then, when you look like _that_, it... it..."

Blushing, Battler laughed nervously; picking up the fallen pillow from the floor once more. He didn't care if it was covered in dirt or dust- he only cared about hiding his expression from Ronove.

Battler winced.

What the fuck was _wrong_ with him? It wasn't like, by changing his appearance, Ronove had suddenly changed his personality too- and when Battler recalled their rather unorthodox introduction, he still felt his skin prickle with horror

Battler hadn't liked Ronove when they first met- far from it. He _definitely_not hadn't trust the other man (not that he really trusted any of Beato's friends). True, Battler had warmed to Ronove somewhat when he offered him bits and pieces of advice- and his tea really was delicious- but, nevertheless, that wasn't the basis for any real friendship.

It wasn't the basis for any real emotions at all.

Battler still didn't like Beato's smiling butler. He _didn__'__t_.

Battler didn't have enough time trying to form friendships with fantasy characters who may or not have existed when his friends and family on Rokkenjima, whom he actually _cared_ about, were in danger. Battler had to save them. He couldn't afford to be distracted by anything- or anyone- else.

But, the moment Ronove took on a form that was aesthetically pleasing, Battler's whole thought process regarding Beato's butler began to shift in the most worrying of ways. It was almost impossible to see the smiling maid, about an inch or two shorter than Battler was, as a real threat, or an enemy- or even as the person who'd pressed themselves against him and whispered all that shit about making a pleasant atmosphere that would've given Battler nightmares if he didn't have much more disturbing things to worry about.

Battler gritted his teeth together.

_Fuck. I really am shallow._

Battler knew he might have looked a lot like a girl now, but he was still undeniably a guy- and he was getting uncomfortably, embarrassingly turned on by _Ronove_, of all people.

_And... And I'm a pervert, too- maybe even worse than that freak. A-am I really that desperate right now I'll go after anything so long as if looks vaguely female, regardless of whether it really is or not?_

_I think spending all that time with those scantily clad sisters has messed around with my head..._

"Battler?~"

A soft, inquisitive voice broke Battler out of his reverie. Instinctively, his arms tightened round the pillow with even greater force, and a strange 'eep!' noise forced its way from his throat.

It was, unquestionably, a very, very _manly_ sound.

That is, if said man had been drinking helium for a minute.

"Are you alright, Battler?"

"I-I'm fine!" Because having a bright red face obviously equated 'fine', and not 'I think I'm having a stress-induced breakdown and my heart hurts.' "I-I'm okay, really, ihihihi..."

"Hmn... Alright then," said Ronove, in a tone of voice that clearly implied 'I don't believe a word you're saying but I'll play along anyway, pu ku ku~' "I was just saying, I think it would be wise if you stayed with me until Milady's spell begins to lose effect. If I'm with you the seven sisters shouldn't pester you too much. Ah- although, perhaps it's unfair to lump them together in such a manner. Belphegor is too mature to tease you, but I'm unsure about the others. They're nice girls, truly, but they're rather lacking in the skills required to kindly and thoughtfully communicate with other humans.".

"Eh?" Battler smirked, raising a brow challengingly. "You're trying to _protect_ me now? I can deal with those big-boobed sisters by myself."

"Mm, yes, as you have proven time and time again when they staked you to death..."

"Tch..." Battler pouted. "L-let's not bring those times up, okay? That was a low blow."

"Pu ku ku~ I'm sorry. I'm merely concerned about you. I suppose the instinct comes from taking care of Milady and the seven sisters for so long... but I honestly don't want any more misfortune to befall you. That would be incredibly unfair."

"I don't need your help. No offence, but I think more 'misfortune would befall me' if you followed me around because, to be perfectly honest, I don't actually like you very much."

"But..." Eyes becoming wide and strangely watery, Ronove held her hands at her chest and looked at Battler pleadingly. "You wouldn't want to make a girl cry, would you? Especially not a girl who cares about you so much...~"

Unbidden, a soft gasp escaped Battler's lips.

It was a good thing he _didn't_ have his usual body, or he would've had a rather unfortunate reaction to that particular plea.

"F-fine," said Battler sharply, turning his back on Ronove. "I-I'll stay with you. B-but _don't _pull faces me like that again! A guy with a messed up personality like your's shouldn't have such have such a pretty face!"

* * *

><p><strong>an:** There was gonna be more conversation this chapter, but I guess that'll come in the next one~ These sorts of stories I write are pretty much 90% dialogue with action thrown in here and there haphazardly to remind everybody (mainly me) this story isn't set in an empty void XDDD  
>Hmn, yeah, Ronove's pronouns got more messed up than Battler's- mainly cause this fic is third person, but more… slanted towards Battler's POV, I guess. I think there's a fancy name for that kind of writing style but I can't remember what it is :<p>

Random fun trivia: Lucy Westenra is a character from Dracula. She is described as being the most beautiful thing in the world by all the characters to the point where it actually becomes kind of annoying XD

**~renahhchen****xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Just ****The ****Way ****You ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Three

* * *

><p>The kitchen, much like the rest of the meta world, was colored a blank white that stung the eyes just to look at. Every area of the meta world was like a blank canvas waiting to daubed with color, or a black outline in a child's coloring book with no color. The endless amount of white was drab, kind of depressing, and strangely cold.<p>

Battler shivered, folding his arms tightly about his chest. It was a motion fuelled equal parts by lingering embarrassment over his new appearance and a genuine need to conserve warmth.

"Are you alright?" asked Ronove softly, offering Battler another of his usual smiles.

His smile wasn't so 'usual' now, though, given it was on the face of a cute maid.

Battler's fingers dug against his arms until it almost hurt, but he couldn't suppress the tremors that ran through his body. It didn't matter how many times Ronove smiled at him like that; he'd never get used to the expression on that face.

Both Battler and Ronove were seated at a table in the kitchen; Battler with his arms folded, as has been described above (ad nauseam, I'm sure), and Ronove idly fiddling with his hair (now a lot longer, delicately curled at the tips) in the manner of one who was feeling slightly awkward about their personal appearance but was trying hide it. At that moment, Ronove looked a little like a girl on a date who was fussing over her hair, even though there was nothing wrong with it and she was only being paranoid.

If Battler had been paying greater attention to Ronove, he might have found the out of character fiddling and fidgeting to be somewhat endearing. It_was_ kind of cute, seeing somebody who was usually so composed on edge. However, Battler was much too busy trying _not_to look at Ronove to analyze this slight quirk in his behaviour, so it went uncommented on.

Perhaps Ronove wasn't even aware he was fidgeting so badly himself, either. It could have been a subconscious reflex- kind of like Battler's constant arm folding to hide his chest.

Inwardly, Battler sighed.

It was going to be a miserable few days if he had to remain in Ronove's company, neither of them really talking to one another. That wasn't for lack of trying on Beato's butler part, though; he had been trying to instigate light conversation for the past few minutes, but Battler ignored him.

It was easier that way.

Battler didn't trust his teenage hormones, which been going haywire lately thanks to the combined efforts of the seven sisters in their revealing outfits, when it came to dealing with Ronove at the moment. The idea of being attracted to Beato's butler in any way, shape or form was, quite frankly, sickening; especially when Battler forcefully reminded himself Ronove, despite his appearance, was still very much male. A male who liked to invade his personal space far, _far_ too much, in a manner that made his skin crawl.

Sure, Ronove might have apologized, but Battler wasn't really buying it. Apologies amongst demons must've meant very little- only an idiot would've believed them.

Battler wasn't an idiot.

At least, he didn't want to be; not after Beato had spelt it out in red during the previous game.

"Battler?" Ronove pressed once more. "You're being rather quiet. Is my company so disagreeable you don't want to talk to me?"

No response.

Ronove pouted- an expression that was, fortunately, quite lost on Battler, who was busy staring at the top of the table and mentally coloring it in bright green.

Battler didn't really like green, but it was better than white.

He was beginning to _hate _the color white.

"I think that's quite hurtful, really... Why would you so cruelly ignore such a young lady? It's not particularly chivalrous..."

More silence.

Ronove's pout- obviously engineered to look as adorable as possible to illicit a response from Battler- morphed into a real frown. If not even light-hearted teasing could get a rise out of Battler, then he wasn't really sure what to do... The idea of sitting there in silence didn't really appeal to him, either.

Still idly toying with hair, winding a black curl round a pale white finger, Ronove tried once more to engage Battler in conversation.

"It looks like you're shivering... Are you cold? Would you like some tea?"

It was Ronove's last resort; the one statement that always got a response. All the witches in the meta world seemed to adore tea (it was the one thing all the witches could agree on), and the tea he made was highly renowned as being the best. If you're unsure about the validity of that statement, ask Beelzebub; she would be only too happy to vouch for Ronove.

There was another small silence.

Then, finally... Battler lifted his head.

Maybe Battler had realized he, too, didn't want to sit in stony silence for another half hour. Maybe he actually did feel somewhat guilty about ignoring Ronove so completely, when the other had only tried to be polite and friendly. Or maybe he just really, really wanted something to drink.

The world may never know.

"Yeah," Battler replied slowly, carefully, each word measured. "I guess I'll have some tea... thanks."

Regardless, what he said was still enough to add a bit more light into Ronove's smile.

"Humans are so strange, to say 'thank you' for something they haven't received yet."

Battler rolled his eyes. "Well, I was just _trying_to be polite. Next time I won't bother, then."

"Oh no; I wasn't trying to find fault with what you said. I just found it amusing. Most witches aren't nearly so considerate."

"Well, as you're a butler, it'd be kind of weird if you got thanked for making tea when it's your job," said Battler- slightly surprised at how easily he'd been drawn into a conversation. "You're not my butler, though, so... I guess I have to thank you when you're offering to do something nice."

Ronove's smile became brighter and brighter as Battler spoke, until the atmosphere in the kitchen didn't feel quite so cold anymore.

"You really can be quite the gentleman at times, you know~"

"Yeah." Battler found himself returning Ronove's smile somewhat half-heartedly. He didn't particularly want to, but he couldn't help it- there was something almost magnetic about it. "Well, that's what happens when you're a kid coming from a family obsessed with image and stuff."

"Hm? What's this about your family? I don't think I've heard about this before."

"Hey, you should know." Battler pulled a face. "Beato seems to know every damn thing about us and our circumstances already- and then she latches onto everybody's weak points and pulls them apart. Are you saying you don't know anything about my past at all?"

"Don't forget, I was a latecomer to your game between Milady; I'm not aware of everything yet. And I'm not interested in your family circumstances so I can use them against you. I'm just genuinely intrigued."

"Oh, I am _so_sure."

"I'm being truthful. Isn't that people do when they want to learn more about the other? They talk?"

"Why'd you want to know more about me, anyway? I still don't trust you, you know! It's not like I have to tell you anything!"

"I'm aware of that… It's quite upsetting, really! But… I think having a conversation would be a better use of time than sitting here saying nothing."

Battler paused, pondering for a few moments.

Then, he sighed.

"Whatever. I'll talk, if you're _really_that interested. It's not like Beato doesn't know every damn thing about me anyway- it's not like it'll matter if you do, too. But you better tell me something about yourself in return. Conversation is kind of a two-way thing."

"I'm aware of that. I don't think there's anything particularly interesting about myself, though…"

"No, of _course_ not. It's not like you claim to be a demon or you can shape shift or anything. Nope; you're a perfectly normal person through and through."

Ronove laughed. "Pu ku ku… Point taken."

"I'll probably seem boring compared to you- but, whatever. It's not a competition. Let's see… Well. My family are kind of obsessed with image and stuff; maybe you gathered that already, given Aunt Eva wears about fifteen one winged eagles on her clothes, ihihi. I kind of think it's overkill myself."

"Oh, don't worry on that account. I happen to know somebody with much stranger fashion tastes than your family members."

"Really?" Battler grinned. "I bet there are some pretty weird demons out there, then."

Ronove nodded.

"Even weirder than you?"

"I make a great point of trying to be a normal, amicable person, thank you."

"Yeah, I bet you do, ihihihi. But- getting back to my _tragic_back story for a few moments… My parents weren't that strict, I guess. I only got lectured over how I hold a teacup or sit at the dinner table by Aunt Natsuhi a couple of times every year. So I was let off the hook pretty damn easy."

"I imagine coming from a family like that would be difficult- especially for a young child. Maybe it's not healthy to force children to behave like adults...? I wonder..."

"Mm. Well, I think I turned out fine, regardless. I mean, look at me- I'm incredible, ihihi." Battler laughed self-deprecatingly. "But George and Jessica... Yeah, sometimes I feel kinda sorry for them. Aunt Eva was even talking about getting George married off to some girl he's never met to 'preserve the family honor' or some bullshit like that... It's crazy."

"I suppose there are no imminent plans to marry you to a well-do-to young woman, then?"

"If there is, first I've heard about it. Well..." Battler's expression darkened. "Wouldn't put it past that old bastard to do something like that though, for a joke... But, you're questioning me about my love life now?"

"Well, maybe~"

"I think that's going a _little_ too far. It's kind of personal."

"Oh, of course. I do apologize." Ronove smiled, bowing his head. "So… Taking the respectable name of your family into account, and your well-bred status, does that mean you could identify which knife and fork to use appropriately for every course of a traditional six course meal?"

"…What a weird question."

But Battler was still smiling, regardless.

"I like to cook, so I'm interested in matters relating to food~ I'm just want to see how much you know."

"Eh... I don't really know that much; that's a question you should ask George or Jessica. I did have a six year gap in my training when I went to live with my grandparents… I think Aunt Natsuhi might've given up trying to turn into a proper gentleman at this point."

"I think you were right beforehand, though. You're fine the way you are."

"Of course I am, ihihi. But…" Battler frowned. "I'm still thirsty. Were you seriously offering me a cup of tea, or was that a cruel lie you used to trick me into conversation against my will?"

"Hm?" Ronove blinked slightly as though in confusion before, finally, realization dawned upon his face. "Oh, yes! I apologize. I'll go and prepare some this moment."

"Prepare? Don't you usually summon your tea stuff from a bunch of golden butterflies?"

"Typically, yes, but tea always tastes better made by hand. We're already in the kitchen, so it would be unforgivably lazy if I didn't make your tea in the traditional manner. I want you to know the full extent of my cooking skills."

"Ooh." Battler raised a brow. He was unable to suppress a grin. "Could it be that you're actually _showing __off_?"

"I guess you caught me out..." Ronove's smile was just a little sheepish. "Well, I have nobody else to impress, so, truth be told, it was a little lonely..."

"Don't worry. I'll be sure to reaaally complimentary, okay?~ Even if your tea does end up sucking. I wouldn't want to make such a cute maid cry, ihihihi."

"Thank you. You really _are_ a true gentleman. It's a shame you don't show that side to Milady..."

Battler scowled. "What, Beato? She doesn't exactly treat me with respect- why should I return the favor?"

"I suppose that's true... But she's really not that bad..."

"You have to say that, you're her butler."

"I don't _have_to say anything. I've always told the truth when it comes to Milady. I admit she can be... at times she is... Hm... But, in the end..." Ronove sighed, shaking his head. "No matter. I still have to make the tea..."

Beato's butler got to his feet somewhat shakily. The chair was moved back against the floor with a high-pitched _skkrt _that was offensive to the ears, making Battler wince. As Ronove moved, the skirts of his dress shifted slightly round his legs; black material on top, frothy white lace underneath. Battler flushed slightly when he realized where, exactly, he was staring, and tried to avert his eyes…

But, as he did so, he noticed something a little off about Ronove's walk.

He was shaking; not exactly on balance- and Battler saw it happen long before it actually occurred.

It was pretty much a fashion disaster waiting to happen.

After all, how many men could walk properly in heels that high?

Luckily for Ronove, Battler's chivalry had not departed him even though he also looked a girl and, in actuality, Ronove was hardly a fair maiden who needed to be rescued. In that moment, Battler's mind only registered that a cute maid was in danger of tripping over her own feet and falling on the floor- and it would've been nothing short of a tragedy if she smashed her face on the floor.

"H-hm...? B-battler...?"

The look of mingled surprise and ever-so-slight embarrassment that colored Ronove's cheeks was absolutely _adorable_.

Worryingly adorable.

Battler had hold of Ronove round the middle, supporting her (_nope; __sorry, __brain, __he's __still __a _**_he_**, chided Battler's head) tightly so she didn't collapse backwards. He had very nearly fallen over, and Battler had only just managed to catch him before it was too late.

Ronove's chest heaved up and down more noticeably than usual, and Battler swore he could actually hear his heartbeat hammering in his ribcage.

Or maybe he was just hearing things.

Those wide, blue eyes were even wider- and seemingly bluer- than normal. The long, sooty lashes trembled slightly. The pale cheeks were actually flushed light pink.

The overall effect almost made Battler himself forget how to breathe.

"Ihihi..." And so, to combat the sudden surge of feelings inside him, he tried to laugh it off. It was a good a plan to deal with awkward emotions as any. "So I guess even a guy like you can't walk properly in heels. That's kind of surprising, actually. I thought you were the type who'd be able to pull that off, ihihihi."

Face still flushed, trembling slightly, Ronove was able to come back with a retort, "And why would you think that? Was that an insult?"

"Huh? Me, insult you? Of course not. Though, I'm not sure why I caught you. It would've been pretty funny to see you fall over- especially as you always act so aloof. 'All humans are foolish', huh?"

"Well, maybe I deserved that..." Ronove said, smiling, as he extracted himself from Battler's tight embrace. "Huh... Even after all these years, I still can't walk in these without breaking my leg or twisting my ankle. That's kind of humiliating, aha..."

"Nah, it'd be weirder if you could. But what do you mean, 'after all these years'?" asked Battler, wrapping a steadying hand round the slightly shorter girl's waist. "And if you're so shit at walking in shoes like that, why'd you choose to wear them?"

"That is a very long story, and I fear I'd never get the tea ready if I had to sit down and tell it. Maybe some other time?"

"I'm suddenly not thirsty anymore. Talking about your past sounds a lot more interesting."

"Well..."

"Come on, I already told you my back story- and you said you'd tell me some of yours' in return; you definitely said that," said Battler, guiding Ronove back to the table.

The way Ronove was pressed against his side as he tried to remain upright in his shoes made Battler swallow hard, trying to push all his perverse thoughts of his stupid skull. Battler wasn't sure whether he was sad or relieved when Ronove finally sat back down in the chair and was no longer touching him.

"Plus," Battler continued, "when am I ever going to get another chance to talk to a demon? I bet you have some stories to tell, right? But you can start on why, exactly, you're wearing those shoes."

"It's... really not that interesting."

"Oh?" Battler raised a brow. "Are you actually _embarrassed_?"

"N-no..."

The slight stutter in Ronove's voice gave him away at once. Battler wasn't sure if he'd ever heard Ronove stutter before- certainly, he'd never done it when taking his usual appearance. It was a strange thing to witness.

Apparently, even he could get flustered from time to time.

Good.

Battler had worried he was the only one.

"Come on," Battler wheedled, with all the patience of a young child pestering their mother if they could have something sweet to eat. "If you don't want to tell me anything about your history I'll be forced to state that's because demons don't actually exist and you have no past at all."

"That's hardly fair. Please don't try to deny my existence whilst we were having such a nice conversation. After all..." Ronove smiled; a little of his usual teasing spark alighting upon on his still flushed face. "I'd only beat you."

"You sound pretty confident. That must mean your past definitely proves the existence of demons and magic, and telling it to me would render me utterly helpless. So..." Battler leant forwards. "Tell me. I want to know."

"Ah, well... fine."

And yet, even though he said it was 'fine', Battler (finally) noticed Ronove had begun to absent-mindedly play with his hair, using the same shuddering, awkward motions from earlier.

"Hm... To be perfectly honest, I don't... like taking this form very much."

"And that's why you keep tugging at your hair?"

"Do I...?"

"Yeah. You're doing it right now. Just..." Battler reached forwards across the table, forcefully twining his fingers between Ronove's so the other couldn't succeed in his mission of tugging out a handful of black curls. "It's kind of annoying. If you don't stop it, I won't return your hand."

"Oh. I wasn't even aware I was. I'm... sorry... if it annoyed you."

"Nah, s'okay. I find you incredibly annoying no matter what you do." Battler grinned. "So, why'd you hate looking somewhat attractive, for a change?"

"Ahaha… You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope. You act so stoic most of the time, so it's weird seeing you acting so different."

"Well, your interest is quite understandable." Ronove smiled; though there was something 'off' about it- something slightly awkward... Was he really _that_embarrassed?

Huh.

And Battler had always thought Ronove had no shame.

It should have been cathartic, watching Ronove shift slightly, so obviously uncomfortable even the most unobservant person could have noticed it. After all, Beato's damn butler had made Battler feel plenty uncomfortable a whole bunch of time before. What did they call it? Karma? What goes around comes around? This was probably some divine punishment being rained down upon Ronove's head for invading Battler's personal space so completely during their first introduction.

Even so, Battler couldn't bring himself to feel triumphant, or even just a little bit self satisfied. In actuality... he felt kinda, sorta sympathetic towards Beato's butler.

"Well, in perfect honesty... or partial honesty... I truly can't abide looking like this; at least, not for any great length of time. It brings back bad memories."

"Memories...?"

"Mm. I still have nightmares about being used as Gaap's dress up doll…"

"Gaap?" Battler repeated once more- beginning to feel a little bit like a parrot.

"Oh, you wouldn't know her. She's another demon. You might even meet her one day."

Battler pulled a face. "I hope not, if she's anywhere near as messed up as you."

"Pu ku ku… Well... I don't particularly like talking about other people without their knowledge; it's quite underhanded. However, judging by Miss Gaap's fashion sense... she's maybe a few eggs short of an omelette... In a lovable sort of way, of course."

"Oh _great_. So she's a psychopath."

"I never said that."

"You implied it. And what was this about her using you as a doll?"

"Miss Gaap has a great interest in fashion... She likes to make clothes. However, she never had anybody who would willingly model them for her- and there was quite a good reason behind that, too. And... We were childhood friends, you know; ever since we were young, and I'd always looked quite… feminine as a small child, so she would use me as a model back then..."

"Wait, hold up there! You used to be a _child _once?"

"Indeed." Ronove tilted his head to one side, smiling. "It is true. Are you surprised?"

"Y-yeah! I didn't know you guys could actually _age_."

"I think the aging process is significantly different than a human's, but we demons do grow older. Very, very slowly... In the words of a wiser man than I, it's probably best not to think about these things too much. You'll only get a headache."

"I'm in a constant state of headache around you," Battler muttered childishly. "But I seriously can't imagine you as a little kid. That's just... I-it's just not right!"

Imagining Ronove as anything other than his ambiguously smiling self was weird; the same kind of 'weird' that crept up on Battler when he found himself imagining, in bursts of 'oh God why am I thinking about this?', about his parents having sex, or something else equally as wrong or creepy. Sure, Battler didn't deny it happened; obviously it had, but that didn't mean he wanted to give it too much thought.

Something about it just wasn't right.

"Most of us demons were children once. Miss Gaap, and the others... We grew up together. But a few of the older demons always seemed to be fixed at a constant age… We were taught by the older, higher ranking demons how to be suitable furniture for witches... Sometimes I wonder who taught the other demons that knowledge, but I suppose it is a mystery."

"Yeah. A 'mystery'. It's always a 'mystery' around you guys," said Battler, running a hand through his hair. He scowled. "It doesn't say much for your existence if not even you're sure how you're alive."

"Oh, well... Do you know every single fact about how your own body functions?" asked Ronove, tilting his head to one side. With a pleasant smile, he asked, "Do you understand each and every thing about what all of your oranges do, or how your cells work, or even what your cells are composed of?~"

Battler opened his mouth, ready to reply, but…

No sound came out.

Ronove had got him.

Battler suddenly wished he'd paid more attention in biology the past year, instead of staring at Takane Shijou- a very pretty, princess-like girl with curly hair- and swapping notes between his two friends, Yuu and Makoto.

Then, maybe he would've been able to counter Ronove's question with something more intelligent than a groan.

"Y-you know, that's an unfair question," said Battler, after a small pause. He stuck out his lower lip, in exactly the same manner Maria did when her mama wouldn't give her any candy. "There's way too much to learn! I'm not a scientist or anything."

"Oh my..." Ronove placed a hand at his mouth, a mock impression of shock. "If you don't know these things about your own body, Battler, then how on earth can you prove you truly exist?"

"T-that's a rotten trick to play!"

"Well then... I don't pretend to know everything about my existence, and neither should you." A small smile. "You shouldn't try to engage in an existential argument with me. You'll only get annoyed, and I'll feel guilty for upsetting you, whilst at the same time feeling mildly offended you still refuse to acknowledge me, and neither of us will like one another very much, and that would be quite unfortunate. Let's try to avoid that topic of conversation, if that's quite alright with you."

"Huh... When you put it like that, guess I've got no choice," said Battler, sinking back into his chair. He sighed. "Man, I'm kinda glad I'm fighting against Beato and not you. She's not as good with words, ihihi."

Ronove's smile became a little softer at that- and Battler noticed, with brief amusement, that he actually looked somewhat flattered at the compliment.

"I suppose I'm good at arguing because I spend so much time trying to get Miss Beelzebub out of the kitchen. That must be it... I certainly wasn't good at arguing when I was younger. _N__on__ scholae __sed __vitae __discimus_ would probably apply, I think..."

Battler's eyes widened slightly. "...Latin? Really?"

"Mm."

"Wow. That's kind of amazing. And several shades of pretentious." Battler smirked. "Why'd you know a dead language like that? It's completely impractical!"

"Being alive for so long, one reads a lot of books to stave off boredom. Knowledge naturally begins to accumulate~"

"Can you speak any other languages, too? Maybe languages that are actually _useful_ for this day and age?"

"Of course- but it's unbecoming to boast."

"Haha, 'unbecoming to boast'- like talking about your amazing tea making skills or quoting stuff in _Latin _wasn't exactly that. You were _definitely_ showing off, and you know it, ihihihi."

Ronove smiled, looking down at the table top in a manner that was almost shy.

"__Lingua speciem involutam praebet, sed sat cito eam comprehendes___._" Soft laughter. "There's nobody in the meta world I can try and impress… Most people wouldn't appreciate it, or would fail to be duly amazed, and those who are capable of engaging in intelligent conversation, like Miss Belphegor and Miss Virgilia, are actually far more enlightened than I. In comparison to those two, who read almost constantly, I wouldn't even be able to match up."

Battler raised a brow. "Most people don't admit it when they're not that smart, you know. They just pretend they're incredible at everything."

Kind of like when he was a little kid and Battler would tell all the young girls he met that he would whisk them away on a white steed, like something from a Disney movie.

Battler blamed _Sleeping __Beauty _on his princely obsessions entirely.

He also blamed _Sleeping Beauty _on the intense fear he'd had of fireplaces when he was a young child (and _Alice in Wonderland_ on his chronic phobia of doors), but that was a different matter altogether.

"So, I guess you get lonely too sometimes, huh? I never would've thought..." Battler's smirk softened into a true smile. "But I suppose being with the same company for one thousand years must get kinda dull."

"Perhaps, at times..."

"Well, don't worry. I'm not a demon, so I can't really relate to the problem, but... ihihi. If you want, you can always show off to me; whether it's about preparing tea, or speaking Latin, or whatever. I'll listen~"

"Really...?"

"Well, I'll at least pretend to listen, just to make you feel better."

"A-ah, well..." And, to Battler's amazement, Ronove's face actually flushed. "I'm very grateful. Thank you."

Battler kind of wanted to reach forwards and pat Ronove on the head.

_Cute..._

_S-so__ cute...!_

But, no- he couldn't cave into his emotions. He had to keep them under control. Despite appearances, Ronove wasn't some pretty girl who needed to be rescued; not like one of the girls Battler would talk to when he was eight or nine, proclaiming he'd rescue them from evil monsters. Ronove was still a demon, and- above all- he was still _male_.

Couldn't forget the male.

It was kind of important.

He did seem to be a lot more prone to openly displaying emotions when in his female form, though. Did that have something to do with his back story?

"What was this about your 'childhood', then?" asked Battler, unable to stop himself from making little quotation marks in the air with his fingers. No matter what Ronove said, he couldn't imagine him as a child.

Then again, he hadn't been able to imagine him as a girl, either, until a few hours ago.

"Hm, we seem to be getting sidetracked, don't we? I'm not sure whether that's a good thing... To cut a long story short... Miss Gaap used me as a model when we were fairly young, and there weren't any problems. However, when we grew older, she was unhappy because I didn't look like enough of a girl to suit her clothes. Hence, I learnt to transform, and remain in this state for a long time, to keep her happy. I think what I'm wearing now must be the last outfit she forced me into, hence the shoes… Although, what I'm wearing right now is fairly conservative in comparison to her typical attire, pu ku ku… I haven't used this form in a long while, so I think it might be a little younger than my natural appearance now. And that, I think, is the general gist of the story."

Battler blinked at Ronove slowly. Then, he began to smirk.

"So you can retain a female form... because you got bullied into doing it by another demon?"

"I suppose you could further summarize it as that, yes. But, please don't say 'bullied'. I was merely being my usual, helpful self."

"Geez, after giving me a hard time a few moments ago, I had no idea you could be such a pushover!"

"Hmm. I like to think I've changed now; hopefully for the better..." Ronove smiled, looking up at Battler under those long lashes. "Do I seem more assertive now?"

"A load more." Battler mocked a shudder, wrapping his arms round his body. "I was worried you were going to assert yourself over me to indecent extents when we first met."

"Yes, I may have gone a little too far then. I did apologize, though, didn't I?"

"Sure, sure. But, to think somebody could boss you around so easily... Then again, I guess you _are_ a butler, ihihi. That's a perfect profession for somebody who just does what others say."

"I'm not_nearly_ so weak-willed anymore, you know." Ronove pouted slightly; though his mock heartbroken expression was clearly built on a teasing half-smile. "I could prove it for you right now, if you like?~"

Battler crossed his arms over his chest defensively, eyes narrowing.

"No thanks."

* * *

><p>"How's Battler? Is he still annoyed?"<p>

"I'm… unsure," said Ronove, after a small pause. "True, he did seem to be upset by your actions… but after talking to him for a while, I think he's slightly calmer now."

Ronove was standing beside Beatrice, whilst Beatrice was seated in her usual chair in the white-washed, octagonal room where she and Battler would have their 'chess matches' (of a sort).

Ronove had reverted back to his usual form, and was feeling quite a lot more relaxed for it, thank you for asking- even if Battler did find his normal appearance a lot less appealing.

Beatrice sighed, sinking down in her chair. It looked like she didn't have the energy to keep herself upright.

"Battler might not be angry with you… but I bet he's still angry with _me_, though."

"Well, you _did_turn him into a girl against his will, Milady. Not to mention, how you've been treating his family…"

Beatrice scowled. A truly horrific look passed across her face. Her teeth looked too numerous for her mouth and too sharp all at once; just like the jagged jaws of a wolf.

"He was _asking_ for it."

But Ronove knew Beatrice too well to be disturbed by any facial expression in her vast repertoire; especially when it was common knowledge those exaggerated contortions of her features were façades to hide the best parts of her character.

"I don't deny that Battler's actions in the past upset you, but I don't think he was _asking_ for it. Nobody would ask for something so terrible to befall them…"

Beatrice's teeth grit together. She looked down at the floor, morose, head hanging; just like a young girl who'd be scolded by a parent. Ronove's tone of voice wasn't accusatory, far from it, but it still made Beatrice flinch.

He was right, of course.

Battler hadn't asked for it…

He… hadn't even deserved it… not really…

Beatrice knew she was punishing Battler for something that had happened six years ago.

Something that wasn't even a real crime.

Something he didn't even remember.

And yet, because he didn't remember… … it stung even more.

Beatrice's wound was one that had been festering for one thousand years- because six lots of three hundred and sixty five can feel like an eternity when thorns are lodged into the hearts of young girls with fairytale dreams and never pulled out. That wound had festered, turned black and the edges, gangrenous and ugly, until the owner of the wound became ugly, too.

Beatrice hadn't always been that bad- but she was a thoroughly detestable person right now.

At least, that was what she thought of herself.

And it was Battler thought, too.

Beatrice bit down on her lower lip.

She...

She had a _right_ to hate him- she had a _right_ to hurt him; he had broken her, and now she would break him. She had thought…

S-she had thought it would make her feel better.

Maybe even that it would be fun.

But it hadn't made her feel better; it hadn't at all.

Instead, seeing him look at her with hatred just hurt even more.

"Couldn't you try and apologize?" Ronove suggested lightly. "You're only making yourself miserable, and it's… upsetting, to see a strong-willed woman such as yourself suffer so much. You do know Miss Virgilia and I, and even the seven sisters, have your best interests at heart, don't you…?"

"Of course I do. I do- and I'm… happy you'll always support me," Beatrice said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "But I _can__'__t_ make Battler forgive me by simply saying sorry, not at this point. It's… far too late. And it's just not enough. Besides… I-I _couldn__'__t_stop this game even if I wanted to; Lady Lambdadelta wouldn't let me."

Ronove sighed.

There was something so melancholic in Beatrice's face it was truly heart-breaking- even to demons, who weren't particularly well-versed when it came to understanding human emotions.

Beatrice may have looked like a witch, with her elegant dresses and hair, but she was definitely a human. It was just a shame Battler couldn't realize that.

How did he not see her good side, when everybody could?

It was probably because Beatrice wouldn't let him see it. She was such a problematic child; unable to say what she wanted, only able to speak what she didn't.

"Well… It may not be worth much, but I will try to make Battler warm up to you. When I sat down and spoke with him, I realized… he really is quite a forgiving person. And very compassionate. Don't lose hope yet, please, Milady."

"Ha? Hope…?" Beatrice sighed. "I haven't heard that word in a long time…"

"Don't be maudlin, Beato." Ronove smiled. "It doesn't suit you."

There was a small pause.

Then, finally… Beatrice smiled.

It was a small smile.

Hardly there.

But it was still a smile.

"Ahaha… Fine. Alright, alright. I'll do my best. I'm happy, see? Ahaha… You're starting to sound more and more like Teacher by the day." Beatrice pouted. "But don't call me 'Beato' in front of anybody else, okay? To you, I'm still '_Milady_'. Remember to respect me!"

"Of course,_ Milady_. How foolish of me to forget, pu ku ku~"

Beatrice puffed out her cheeks in irritation. "A-and don't tease me, either!"

"I would never _dream_ of it~" Ronove smiled. "And, Milady… Although Battler looks very charming as a woman, I believe he would far prefer it if you would give him old body back."

Beatrice's response was short, sharp and instantaneous. "_No_."

In fact, it was so much so it was a little surprising- even to somebody like Ronove.

"Why not…?"

"'Cause if I give Battler his old body back there'll be nothing to stop us from restarting our old game."

"You're using it as an excuse?"

"Well, _yes_. If my opponent isn't in his normal body, he can hardly be expected to have the sound mind needed to play against me to the best of his abilities! Having your body tampered by magic is definitely a handicap, isn't it? You can't have a fair fight under those conditions, and… and…" Beatrice's face flushed light pink. "And I… I don't want us to start fighting again… At least, not so soon… Not when my strategy for the third game I have planned out with Teacher is so underhanded. If Battler doesn't hate me now, he definitely will at the end of this game… And then… W-what will _I_do? He'll be so busy hating me, he won't even try to remember… Or if he does, the memories will have turned bitter!"

Beatrice sniffed, wiping her eyes with her long sleeves. It looked like she was trying not to cry.

For all her talk of trying to be cheerful, she… … certainly didn't look very cheerful.

In fact, quite the opposite.

"Beato, you…"

But Ronove never managed to finish his sentence.

He didn't finish, because Beatrice had risen somewhat shakily from her chair…

And pulled him into a hug.

It might have been to hide the fact she really was crying.

… …The world would never know.

But Ronove would never do something as heartless as to ask.

* * *

><p><strong>an:** Mixing more conversation with deredere Moetrice, yay ^_^;;  
>Really, really minor spoilers for ep7 of the visual novel… but nothing's explicitly stated (and never will be), so I think it's okay &amp; not worth a warning…?<p>

But lololol, Battler sounds kinda like a douche when he's so cold and uncaring about Beato, then you contrast it with how Beato feels. He kinda has every right to hate her, though, but still... XD Beato u such a conflicting character XD

Strangely deredere Ronove is also fun to write :3 Of course there is a bit more of a reason for that behaviour than has been given thus far… yeah.  
>I'm trying to get Battler and Ronove to have decent conversations so their pairing is slightly more believable, and not creepy XD~ Though I think I'm kinda going for creepycute there anyway. M'not sure. But I'm very tired of studying sadomasochism in English literature in college and I just want to write adorable things all the time now… XD

**~renahhchen**** xoxoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just ****The ****Way ****You ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Four

* * *

><p><em>"Battler, I... I..."<em>

_"Hey, don't worry. It'll be okay. I won't hurt you or anything. Didn't you say I was a gentleman?"_

_"I know, but this... W-we shouldn't be doing this, i-it... ... A-ahh..."_

_"Hmn?~ What is it?~ I didn't realize you could be so cute! Ihihihi!~"_

_"D-don't say things like that, p-please... W-what if Milady..."_

_"You're worried about _her_?"_

_"Mmm... m-mhm..."_

_"Oh, so that's the problem?~ Ihihi... Well, don't worry... In a matter of seconds, I'll make sure you can't think of anything else but me~"_

_"A-aah... B-battler, I... B-battler... ..._

"Battler? Wake up~"

"N-ngh... Gerroff. M'sleeping."

"No you're not. If you were asleep you wouldn't be replying to me. Miss Virgilia and I have been caring for the seven sisters of purgatory for centuries; I can tell when a troublesome child is lying or not. I'm not that dense, you know."

"S-shurrup, bastard..."

"Hn? Is that any way to talk to a lady, Battler?~ Be careful- you might break my heart, pu ku ku~"

"B-be quiet, you... you..."

And, then, finally, it dawned on Battler.

His eyes had been previously shut so tightly even his nose scrunched up in disdain. However, the moment he heard that all-to-familiar laugh- though it was distinctly more feminine than usual- his eyes snapped open in a matter of milliseconds.

Battler's tight grip on his duvet slackened slightly, releasing his body from the oppressive cocoon of warmth he'd drawn about himself.

He froze.

He _stared_.

And then, he very nearly screamed.

Ronove, meanwhile, smiled abashedly, idly coiling strands of that pretty black hair about one finger.

"Oh my... I'm really not that terrifying, am I?~"

Giggle, giggle.

* * *

><p>Suffice to say, Ushiromiya Battler was not in a good mood.<p>

Having a sexy dream about a pretty girl, then being awoken by said pretty girl, was embarrassing enough. Battler knew that only too well from past knowledge. He'd never been able to live down that incident in biology when he'd had a rather... risqué... dream about the pretty European girl, Shijou Takane, and then he'd been prodded awake by none other than Takane herself. That particular incident prompted many deadpan quips from his friends about whether galvanizing frogs turned him on _that _much.

(On the plus side, he'd probably never see any of his school friends ever again, so at least that embarrassing incident could be forgotten about.)

However, this situation... ... was probably worse.

No, there was no 'probably' about it. It was _definitely _worse.

Shijou Takane actually w_as_ a girl (at least, Battler thought she was), with a nice smile and nice hair and boobs and everything. Ronove didn't even begin to fit any of those criteria- not even the 'nice smile' part, because his usual smiles were just creepy.

...Well, he did have kind of nice hair, even as a guy, but that was totally beside the point.

Battler groaned, his head falling against the table in the kitchen with a loud _crack_. It sounded a little like an eggshell being spilt into two. Or three. Or several pieces. Certainly, it felt like little bits of egg yolk brain was running out of his ears- and as he'd never really had much sense, love of mystery novels or not, maybe he _needed _that egg yolk (brain cells...?), but the harder he tried to remain in control of his emotions the harder it got. Hell, Battler could hardly even sort out his own weird metaphors inside his head anymore.

It was natural for teenage boys to have dreams like that. Sometimes it was embarrassing- mainly when it happened in public- but, still. It was normal. But, in this case, it was very, very _ab_normal indeed.

Magic had a way of screwing around with people.

Why couldn't have Battler have dreamt of a _real _girl, like one of the big boobed sisters, or even Beato herself? Sure, Battler had been staked to death multiple times by the seven sisters, and his feelings were so mixed up over Beato he wasn't sure whether he despised her or semi-tolerated to almost-sort-of enjoyed her company, but they were still attractive. They were undeniably attractive. And they were all real women. So why had his mind chosen the female form of Ronove to fantasize about instead?

It didn't make any sense.

Was he really so horribly shallow that he'd entertain fantasies about any vaguely female-looking person, just so long as they were suitably attractive? Yeah, Battler had always been drawn to girls he personally found good looking, and he'd made a few boob jokes about various girls before, but he always liked to think he got crushes on girls who were, regardless of their looks, genuinely nice people, too.

Shannon (he vaguely, oh so vaguely, remembered having a 'thing' for her sometime back) had been a sweet girl.

Takane had been a nice girl.

The various other crushes and girlfriends in between that he could no longer remember had been reasonably friendly too, Battler was sure.

Maybe he was a ridiculous romantic, despite his occasional lecherous comments (he totally blamed that on Rudolf's genes, which was also what the blamed the fact he was a fucking _giant _with huge feet on), but Battler didn't want to be attracted to girls based solely on their looks.

Battler could still remember Rudolf sitting him down when he was about seven, maybe eight, and giving him that lecture.

"I was a real bastard when I was a teenager, you know? I'd go after any girl, and I never stopped to think about how they'd feel about it. I was only thinking of myself. Ihihi... It got me into some pretty messy situations. Make sure you don't act like that when you get older, okay? A vengeful woman can make your life not worth living."

Of course, at the age of seven/eight, Battler hadn't really understood that. He was more concerned with getting dirty, climbing trees and playing with Jessica than trying to get a girlfriend. When he got a little older, though, he understood.

He finally got it.

It was probably the one good piece of advice that old bastard had ever given him, and Battler intended to stick by it.

Now, however...

Now...

Battler groaned once more, fingers fisting in his hair.

He hated Ronove. He hated everything about him, from the way he'd always stand too close to him, to his disturbing smiles, to his almost flirtatious comments. He didn't feel comfortable around him, he didn't like him, and he certainly didn't want to dream about him like _that_.

He _didn't._

But, when it came to his female form, he…

Battler didn't know, he just…

He ignored those negative traits, didn't he?

He ignored them because Ronove was _pretty._

Battler was attracted because of his looks, certainly not because of the personality behind him.

That was why he'd had that dream.

And that was why, in the dream, everything about Ronove had been completely different save for his looks. His personality had been completely overhauled, replaced with the personality of a more demure, sweet, subservient woman...

Jessica probably would've punched him if she'd been privy to his thoughts surrounding Beato's butler-turned-maid; 'how disgusting! Can you be any more of a pervert?'

And, truth be told, Battler... ... would probably have let her.

Maybe he deserved to be hit.

As if on repeat, memories of that dream (no, nightmare) continued to run through Battler's mind, even though he tried to blot it all out.

It didn't work.

He shuddered.

Of course, there was nothing wrong with being attracted to a person's appearance... wasn't that standard human nature? But to attempt to rewrite a personality to fit a face was just _wrong_. There was something so hideously, fundamentally _wrong _about the whole thing it made Battler feel sick.

And yet, despite his inner turmoil, Ronove only smiled; blissfully oblivious to all the cogs that were grinding around inside his head.

"...hope you enjoy it~"

"H-huh?"

The cheerful sound of Ronove's voice effectively broke Battler out of his confused spiral of thoughts. Looking up in alarm, elbows pressed against the table and fingers in his hair, Battler was sure he must have looked like a crazy person having a breakdown.

Evidently, his self-assessment of his appearance was right on the mark, because Ronove seemed torn between giving him a sympathetic look or laughing. Thankfully, he settled on the former.

If he'd started laughing, Battler probably would have lost his temper and slapped him.

Taking your anger out on other people was always fun.

"Are you alright?" asked Ronove comfortingly. His voice was almost parental.

That... was kind of weird.

"...No. I'm not alright."

"Didn't you get enough sleep?"

Battler's left eye twitched slightly. Was Ronove mocking him?

How could he, unless he could...?

Battler blurted it out before he'd really thought it through. Then again, that was lack of sleep does to you.

"C-can you read my mind?"

"That depends..." Ronove grinned impishly. "Do you have anything worth reading in there?"

Battler's face turned the same color as his hair. "I-I, well, I, um..."

_Damn it. Could you possibly try any harder to sound guilty?_

However, instead of teasing him, as Battler fully expected, Ronove only smiled once more way once more. It looked a lot like the same sleepy, half-awake, yet somewhat motherly expression Virgilia used when she was with Beatrice.

"It's alright. You've been through a lot lately so it's only natural it would be difficult to sleep. I sympathize with you, really, although you may not believe me... So that's why I made you some Ceylon tea. It's black, so it should be efficient enough to wake you up."

For the first time, Battler- who had been too distracted by Ronove and his own messed up brain to pay attention to anything else- finally took note of the steaming cup set before him. When he placed his fingers round the handle, it was still warm. It smelt crisp and sharp, a little like citrus.

"...Why did you make this for me?" asked Battler, unable to keep the suspicious tone from his voice. He didn't care if Ronove was trying to be 'nice' (which, given his typical behaviour- not to mention his title as a _demon_- seemed almost laughable).

Battler still didn't trust him.

"I didn't poison it, if that's what you're inferring," Ronove replied. He didn't sound offended at all; quite the contrary. Instead, he was still smiling. Did he not _have _any other expressions?

…Instantly, that gasping, flushed image from his thoughts drifted through Battler's head.

_Damn it. I really have to _stop _this…_

"I'm not Lucrezia Borgia, and it certainly isn't my intention to invite you a tea and anthrax party," Ronove continued smoothly. "It would reflect rather badly on my status as a butler if I made a habit of trying to murder my masters."

_"M-master, I, I…"_

Battler swallowed heavily.

His voice was stony when he said, "I'm not your master."

"Of course not. However, I _did _say I would prepare you some tea by hand yesterday, but the chance never arose... So." Another smile. "Here we are. You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, but it would be a shame for my attempts of friendship to go to waste. I'd be completely _heartbroken_."

Battler looked at Ronove levelly for a few moments, eyes narrowed.

Then...

Quite unbidden, he couldn't help but smile... ... just a little.

"You're so melodramatic, you know that?"

"You should meet Zepar and Furfur. They're worse."

"More demons?"

Ronove nodded. "We're just a happy family of misfits, really...~"

"Ihihi. Sounds kinda like my family." Battler grinned. "Fine, whatever. I'll try your stupid tea. And if I die, I'll coming back as a ghost and haunt you."

"I would look forward to that. Then I would have your delightful company all to myself, pu ku ku~"

"Yeah, well, we'll see how 'delightful' it is when I've driven you to committing suicide."

And, so saying, Battler picked up the cup of tea, and began to drink.

Needless to say, it wasn't poisoned. If it was, this story would be a lot, lot shorter. Also, it should be noted there is no actual proof Lucrezia Borgia ever poisoned anybody, so Ronove's earlier comparison was actually quite unfair and unfounded.

It is also needless to say (but I will say it anyway) that the tea was exactly as Ronove had promised earlier.

It was absolutely delicious.

Battler never actually said this, but the look on his face voiced his thoughts well enough.

Ronove smiled, with all the pride of a vain girl who had been told they looked exceptionally beautiful. Apparently, even when words weren't exchanged, butlers like Ronove were able to tell when their tea had been enjoyed, and they were greatly flattered by the attention.

"No problem. I'll gladly make tea for you anytime," said Ronove, picking up Battler's empty cup and carrying it to the sink. Of course, he could have used magic to transport the cup, but sometimes it was more satisfying doing things by hand. Moreover, if he had used magic, Battler would never have bee able to see that...

"Hey! How come you're able to walk in those stupid heels now?"

There was a soft _chnk _as Ronove set the teacup down beside the sink. His back was to Battler as he did this so his expression was unreadable. Fortunately for the readers, this narrator is blessed with the gift of being third person omnipotent, so I can safely assure you that the look on Ronove's face was one of slightly abashed happiness. If you're unsure about what this vague, nothing-y term translates to in real life, try watching a cute couple on Valentine's Day as one hands chocolate to the other, and see what expression alights on the face of the one receiving the gift. Then, you would have a fairly good representation about what Ronove looked like.

Of course, you'd better watch this romantic couple from afar, in case you end up looking like a stalker.

Once Ronove had finally controlled his expression so it was befitting for a butler of his calibre (i.e. his smile was ambiguous and impenetrable, as always), he finally turned about.

"Oh, it's really nothing..." he said in an off-hand voice. "I merely dislike being bad at things, so I thought I should practice. Moreover, I'm meant to be elegant~ I have no desire to fit the 'clumsy maid' cliché."

Battler wasn't sure whether the correct response to Ronove's words was to be disturbed or amused. In the end, he settled for somewhere in the middle.

He might as well play along.

"Aww, why would do something like that? All guys _love _clumsy maids, ihihihi!~"

However, Battler's comment didn't have exactly the right response he was looking for. Instead of laughing, Ronove, instead... looked actually kind of _irritated_?

No way...

But, there was no denying it. Ronove actually looked _angry_. Maybe even upset.

His eyes had narrowed slightly, fingers clenching into fists, and there was a definite shadow that had crossed his face...

Battler looked at Ronove in surprise.

He had never seen him look like that before.

Indeed, he'd never seen Ronove blush before either, until yesterday.

There was a first time for everything, of course, but... anger wasn't an expression Battler wanted to see on Ronove's face. Either male or female, it just... didn't suit him.

Not at all.

"H-hey... Did I... say something wrong...?"

But the moment those words passed Battler's lips, the ugly look on Ronove's face disappeared. It was almost as if it had never been there to begin with.

"Hm? Oh, no... Nothing's wrong."

A small smile.

However, it didn't look entirely real. Instead, it seemed... almost strained.

"But you-"

"It doesn't matter, truly. Don't concern yourself with my affairs. After all..." Ronove paused, looking a little dubious, as he began to fret at his hair in that distracted manner again. It looked as though he was weighing up his next words very, very carefully; almost as if his very existence (or non-existence) depended on it. And then, finally... he spoke. "I'm not the clumsy maid you really care for, am I?"

Battler's mouth fell open in a small, perfect 'o'.

Was Ronove...

No, he couldn't be; he'd said yesterday he didn't know very much about Battler's past...

_But that could have been a lie_.

Was Ronove talking about Shannon... ...?

Why would he?

Battler may have had a crush on her once upon a time, a long, long time ago, but what did it matter? He'd said some embarrassing things to her that made both of them blush, and then he'd had that argument with Rudolf and hadn't seen her in six years. When he finally returned, he saw Shannon was in a relationship with George, and that was fine. He was happy for them.

It wasn't like he was jealous or anything.

It wasn't like he still cared about Shannon like that.

So then, why…?

But Battler never got a choice to dwell on that confusing thought further.

That was because, in a bright burst of butterflies and blonde princess curls, a very loud, very demanding, very _obnoxious _presence suddenly exploded (quite literally) onto the scene.

If Battler hadn't seen it coming, Ronove sure as hell hadn't.

One second, Beato's butler had been stood there, looking imploringly at Battler- as if willing him, desperately, to understand something very, very important...

And the next second, he had been bowled over onto the floor by none other than the stake of gluttony herself.

Ronove might have been able to walk in high heels, but they really weren't designed to withstand furious tackle-hugs from hyperactive young girls in dire need of cake.

Urgh...

Judging by the rough _crack _Ronove's head made as it came into contact with the floor, that _had _to have hurt.

* * *

><p>"K-kyahh! I'm sorry, Ronove, really!"<p>

"That's alright, Miss Beelzebub."

"No, truly! I'm really, honestly sorry; what I did was indefensibubble!"

"Well, I don't know about indefensible..."

"I'm such a horrible person! You can boil me in oil right now, okay- I'll withstand any punishment!"

"...Have you been talking to Zepar and Furfur again?"

"Actually, I wonder what humans would taste like if you dipped them in oil, maybe with some herbs on top... Oooh... That sounds tasty..."

"And we're back to our usual self again. What a relief."

"Please don't hate me because I knocked you down, okay? Please, please, please?~ You'll still feed me, right?~ What's one potential concussion between friends?" Beelzebub implored, voice sickly sweet and saccharine. "You'll still feed me, right?"

Ronove was seated at the kitchen table once more. (Oh, that useful, useful table- a great help in almost any scene in this story.) His head was resting on Battler's shoulder- mainly because it hurt too much for it to remain upright on its own. His lower lip was split, resulting in a light smattering of blood against his chin, so he looked a little like a vampire. Some of that blood had, mysteriously, turned into rose petals.

Whatever.

Battler had decided he wasn't going to question meta world logic anymore. Big-boobed witches wanted to be butterflies? Stake-girls could rip him limb from limb and hide in saucepans? Oh-so-fabulous butlers could bleed roses? It didn't matter.

Trying to sort through that mess would have been like trying to wade through treacle.

Time consuming and completely pointless.

At that point in time, Battler was far too concerned with trying to halt his brain from going bad places in regards to Ronove's dependence on him as a pillow, and didn't have enough time to ponder anything else.

Beelzebub, meanwhile, was hovering a little above Ronove, salivating over the thought of dipping people in oil and eating them alive.

Beatrice really did hang out with a bunch of lovely people.

As Beelzebub continued to mutter her breath about what other delectable dishes she could make from human flesh, Ronove- instead of being disturbed, as he so rightly should have been- only smiled indulgently.

"Now you're beginning to act more like your usual self. Your concern for my safety was beginning to worry me." A weak laugh. "I thought you might have hit your head, too."

"Nah." Beelzebub smiled brightly. "I think you broke my fall."

"Yes, I think I did, too... Forgive me for being rude, but you're a lot heavier than you look."

Beelzebub pouted. "Hey! Saying 'forgive me for being rude' and then being totally, utterly rude doesn't _stop _what you said from being rude, you horrible person!"

"Ahaha, of course... I apologize. I appear to have lost some of my usual charm after being knocked about like a bowling pin. I'm sure it will come back, if we all wait patiently."

"Y-you know," Beelzebub suddenly exclaimed, "I never intended to hurt you, I really didn't! Why would I hurt the person who feeds me?"

"Well, quite."

"Usually you're able to withstand my super-awesome-special glomping hugs, even when I attack you with 200%! I-I mean, you always caught me when I did it before! I totally didn't know you'd be a bit more, um... thin... and short... and _female _today! I thought that was just a one-off!"

"I'm sorry if I was unable to live up to your expectations. Next time you feel the need to barrage into me at full speed I promise I'll catch you, alright?"

"Hehehe..." Beelzebub giggled almost coquettishly, flipping one of her twin tails over her shoulder. "Okay then. I'll hold you to that! Or..." She paused, tapping one finger against her lower lip in thought. "Should that be, you'll hold _me _to that?" Another pause. "Well, no matter!~ I like you a lot more when you're a guy, okay, so don't stay being all thin and twiggy for too long! Otherwise, me and Mammon might get jea~lous~~ Kukukuku... There are already too many girls in the meta world already, you know?"

Battler wasn't entirely sure why, but he found himself gritting his teeth together in irritation.

Beelzebub and Ronove sounded close; incredibly close. He hadn't really noticed before, but... they must have had a pretty good relationship. They were able to joke around easily, like old friends- and, logically speaking, they most likely were. Given Beelzebub was the stake of gluttony, it was only to be expected she spent a lot of time in the kitchen with Ronove.

Battler's mind was instantly drawn back to the dark expression on Ronove's face from earlier. He hadn't understood it, and Ronove had been in no hurry to discuss it- but what it possible Beelzebub would have understood?

Just how well did she know Ronove anyway?

But... why was he thinking about that?

And why did he care?

"Oh, I'm sorry, Battler!"

"Hn?" Battler looked at Beelzebub, noting the young stake was now hovering before his face. Like Ronove, it seemed she had a habit of invading people's personal space, too. "What do you want?"

Beelzebub cackled. "Kukukuku... I just realized, I didn't include you as a 'girl' when counting up all the women in the meta world! Though, I'm not sure Mammon an' me would see you as competition when it comes to getting any guys... You're not very pretty, are you?"

Battler's eyes narrowed.

How on earth was Ronove able to get along with such an annoying brat? Sure, Beelzebub could be fun sometimes, and playing find-the-croissant-while-trying-to-grope-a-boob was entertaining, but she was so good at getting under his skin, just like a human bot fly.

That was a mental image Battler could have done without.

Actually, with her manipulative wiles and oh-so-innocent smiles, Beelebub kind of reminded Battler a little of his old man.

"Okay, Ronove!~ I'll come and see you later, when you're not all, you know, head bashed-in... ed... Ish...? Hehehe~ Bye!~"

And in so saying, Beelzebub gave Ronove a peace sign, and vanished.

Somehow, she'd managed to snag a whole strawberry cheesecake from the fridge before her departure, and nobody noticed until the last minute.

The moment she left, Battler heaved a sigh of relief.

_Finally._

* * *

><p>"I guess these shoes aren't really working out for you, huh?"<p>

"No, I suppose not. Although the one at fault that time was really Miss Beelzebub. She's a little over-enthusiastic when it comes to greeting people."

Battler raised a brow. He was doing that a lot lately- but it was pretty much a catch-all standard response to anything weird that happened in the meta world. Given almost everything that went on in the meta world was weird, he ended up pulling that face a lot.

Jessica had always teased Battler when he did that expression. Apparently, he didn't look 'normal' unless he was grinning like a slightly less-than-menacing Halloween pumpkin that'd just had it brains scooped out. Her words always went something like, 'I know you want to emulate your dad, but he's way cooler than you and he does that face better, hahaha!' Battler had always responded to that particular criticism by grabbing hold of Jessica's ponytail and musing it up so it turned into a fluffy explosion even more curly than usual.

Then again, this had been back when they were about six.

"What do you mean, 'a little'? It looked like she was trying to kill you," Battler said, folding his arms.

"Miss Beelzebub would never kill me."

"She's tried to kill me. _Multiple _times."

"Yes, but I am the one who makes her food. That means I have a permanent immunity against her more violent attacks. She would never try to seriously harm me, at any rate. We're like family."

"Family? You guys get along that well?"

"Of course. I suppose she is like... a little sister, maybe?"

"_I _have a little sister, and she wasn't nearly as irritating as Beelze is," said Battler. He was beginning to feel defensive on behalf of all little sisters across the country. Comparing them to Beelzebub was just _wrong._ "Ange is really, really cute!"

"Well, most people think that about those they're close to, don't they, regardless of whether it's the truth or not. You tend to excuse people for their flaws if you've known them for a while."

That much was true. Battler couldn't argue with that. He knew his Aunt Eva had a mean streak, especially when it came to Natsuhi, and he knew Ange could be rather stubborn at times, but that didn't stop him from loving them all the same.

Battler had just never guessed the inhabitants of the meta world would have a similar family structure amongst them.

"Um, so..."

"So...?" Ronove asked.

Battler shifted in his seat slightly, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why he was curious, or why he even wanted to ask, but still...

"You and the unholy glutton aren't, like, um..." He pressed the tips of his fingers together, looking suitably embarrassed. "Like, _together_, are you? Only, you seemed pretty close and, um... I-it was just kind of weird, that's all... Ihihi..."

Ronove tilted his head to one side, slight confusion flitting across his face for a few moments. Then, finally, the penny dropped.

And he began to laugh.

"Of course not. The only thing Miss Beelzebub 'loves' about me is my food- as is continuously demonstrated when she uses Valentine's Day chocolate as bargaining chips to get three times as much food in return on White Day. I'd worry for my safety if she felt anything more than friendship for me. And, somehow, it wouldn't feel right. If I wanted to pursue a romantic relationship with anybody, it would have to be somebody around my age, or at least, somebody I don't view as a younger sibling. Although I honestly haven't given it much thought. I'm too busy being Milady's furniture to worry about things like that."

"So, not even you or Virgilia…?"

"Does our relationship come across that way?" asked Ronove, now looking genuinely curious. "I assure you, we're just friends."

"Oh… So you and Beelzebub aren't…?"

"No, we most certainly are not. Would _you _have a romantic relationship with your sister?"

Battler's face turned red. He winced. "N-no, of course not! That's _disgusting_!"

"Well then. There you go."

"Is it that simple?"

Ronove nodded. "It's that simple. Although, I do wonder, what brought this question on?"

Battler looked down at his knees, still rather flustered. What _had_ brought that on?

He didn't know.

He didn't want to know.

Again, the image of last night's dream began to flitter through his subconscious.

"Ihihi, I don't know… Just interested. Wondering how similar you guys are to humans, that's all," said Battler, shrugging.

"We might be more similar than you think. I know you want to regard us as your enemies, but deep down, we're not all that unlike humans."

"Apart from the golden butterfly thing you're all good at doing."

"Yes, apart from that, though you've picked up that particular trick rather well by yourself, pu ku ku~"

Battler gave Ronove one of his signature grins at that. "Ihihi, well, I'm not clamouring to become one of you guys just yet, so you can keep all your magic to yourself. So… About those shoes."

"What about them?"

"You've been messing around with the laces for a while. You need any help?"

Ronove smiled a little sheepishly. "Aha, well... I think I must have tied them too tightly, and then you distracted me, and somehow, the knots got a lot worse. It's funny how things like that happen, isn't it?"

"Ihihi. I never realized you, of all people, could be such a klutz."

"Neither did I, to be honest."

Sniggering, Battler got off his chair, and then knelt down on the floor facing Ronove. Bending down, he took one of Ronove's feet in his hands, and slowly began to pick apart the knots in the laces of those very impractical, heeled boots. Battler was so focused on his task he didn't look up, which was probably a good thing, because then Ronove would have been aware of the slight blush on his face.

It only took Battler a matter of seconds. When he had finished, the shoes lay to one side, effectively forgotten.

"There," said Battler, standing up and dusting his hands together. "Done."

"That was rather fast. I'm impressed."

"It might not look it, but I'm good at fiddly stuff like that." Battler grinned with a strange kind of pride. "I'm especially good with untying impossible knots, 'cause of the complete mess Ange used to work her laces into all the time."

"So this is a skill honed from being a big brother, hmn?"

"Yep. And what an awesome big brother I am, too." In so saying, Battler held his hand out for Ronove to take. "Come on, get up."

"Why?"

"I wanna see how short you end up without those shoes. I'm curious."

"...Fine. If it will satiate your curiosity, I suppose I have no choice."

Ronove reached forwards and took hold of Battler's hand almost tentatively. When their fingers wound together, Battler felt his heart beat just a little faster, though he tried to ignore it. Somehow, the action of holding hands felt far more intimate than it should've been. Thankfully, Ronove was wearing gloves, which lessened the impact somewhat, but still… Again, Battler was reminded of that dream. He grit his teeth together. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway.

Pushing these errant thoughts aside, Battler pulled Ronove up onto his feet. He used perhaps a little more force than was necessary, and he very nearly crushed Ronove's body against his. Luckily, Battler was able to catch his shoulders with his hands before such an invasion of person space (this time, not entirely Ronove's fault) could occur.

And then... Battler blinked in surprise.

He looked down.

He'd thought Ronove was short in his female form before, but _now_... The heels of those shoes must have been a good five inches, _at least_.

Ronove really_ was_ tiny; probably about the same height as Beelzebub or Asmodeus. And he looked about as old as them, too.

Battler's face flushed dark red.

How was Ronove so cute...? He really didn't have any right... n-not at all... not when Battler had always been drawn to short, slight girls that looked like they needed protecting- his whole 'hero' delusions from when he was a child coming back, full force. Takane was kind of a one-off, given she was the tallest girl in his class.

This revelation wasn't going to help his already confused mind sort through his feelings.

It wasn't _at all._

"I know you said your female form was younger than your usual one," Battler said, trying to keep the slight stammer from his voice, "but by exactly how much is it younger?"

"I'm not sure- I haven't used it in such a long time," Ronove admitted. "I wasn't very tall for quite a while, so... Perhaps, in appearance, I'm seventeen. That sounds about right. I'd rather not remember any memories from around that point in time, though."

"Hn? Why's that? Did you have an awkward childhood, too?"

"You could call it that, yes."

"Care to tell me?"

There was a small pause. Then, slowly, Ronove shook his head.

"Why not?"

"Because, as there are things you probably don't want to share with me... I have a few secrets, too." Ronove smiled, pressing a finger against his lips. "So don't pry... okay?~"

"R-right..."

It was only then, as Battler stood there, that he realized he was still holding onto Ronove's shoulders.

* * *

><p><p>

**a/n: **Shijou Takane is a character from IDOLMSTER, and I love her greatly~ Thus, I decided to use her as one of Battler's old crushes; no real reason for using her other than that… ^_^;;  
>I like writing this story. It's fun :3 And it's so adoradesu I don't even… XD~ Even its title is quote from one of my favorite romantic comedies... XD<p>

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just**** The**** Way ****You ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Five

* * *

><p>"Ronove... are you sure this is alright?"<p>

The soft, sleepy voice belonging to the equally soft-hearted, sleepy-eyed witch emitted so much motherly warmth one could've wrapped themselves up in it an used it as a blanket. Everything about Virgilia radiated serenity, from the way she smiled to way her fingers lightly gripped her teacup of pumpkin tea. It was impossible not to feel relaxed in her presence.

However, this was not necessarily so for Ronove. The problem was that Ronove had known Virgilia for a long time, ever since he was a young demon who let Gaap tie knots in his hair and didn't have enough strength to open tightly lidded jars. He knew exactly what sort of voice she adopted when she wanted to discuss a delicate subject, and she was using that exact voice now.

There was something very dark lurking under that tranquil atmosphere.

Although Virgilia was trying to hide it behind her usual smiles and pleasant words, Ronove knew this conversation wasn't going to be exactly enjoyable; not for either of them. He knew what the conversation was going to be about, too.

It had been coming from the very beginning, really, and it was odd Virgilia had waited a couple of days before discussing it. She must have been thinking about it for a good long while, wondering how to phrase her concerns in the most delicate manner. This was a very delicate subject, after all. One misplaced word was likely to cause a disaster to happen, just like slipping in the street once could get you hit by a car.

It might not have looked like it on the outside, but behind that teasing smile and cool mask, even Ronove had things he didn't particularly want to discuss, or even think about for the briefest of moments.

There were some things that shouldn't be dragged up, and some scars that didn't fade, and this was certainly one of them.

No matter how Virgilia approached it, the result would still be the same.

It would still be... ... painful.

But Ronove could hardly ignore her. She was only concerned about him, after all- mainly because she was the only person in the meta world who knew they had something to be concerned about. If Gaap were there, or Zepar and Furfur, they would have known, and maybe they would have been able to talk to Ronove, but they couldn't, and Virgilia was the only one, and as a friend she simply had to ask no matter how much it might have hurt because she cared.

As were Virgilia's thoughts on the matter.

"I mean..." Virgilia looked down at her face reflected in the surface of her tea; eyes half-lidded and downcast. "I don't want to pry, but... isn't this bringing up bad memories? I would have thought, after what happened, you would never desire to use your second appearance ever again."

Ronove sighed, running his hand through his hair in an almost identical copy of what Battler did when he was lost for words. Virgilia couldn't help but smile, just a little, at that, regardless of how tense the situation was. Battler and Ronove really had been spending a lot more time together lately, and it was strange how people could adopt the characteristics of others.

Virgilia was still waiting for the day when Battler would begin to show an interest in making tea or cookies. Having two proficient chefs in the meta world would be simply wonderful~

Ahh, but her mind was wandering...

"It's... not that I desire to appear like that," said Ronove slowly, after a small pause. "Quite the opposite. But, if I Milady wants me to communicate her feelings to Battler, then I have to gain his trust first. Without that, he would simply refuse to listen to, or believe, anything positive I had to say about Milady..."

"Mm... That troublesome child has made herself quite unpopular. It doesn't matter how much she denies it, her behaviour really _is_similar to that of a young child who acts cruel to gain the attention of the one they like..."

"Well, Milady certainly has Battler's attention. I doubt he'll ever forget her again, so her plan is partially successful. She just didn't think through how she would then be able to make him like her, pu ku ku~"

"Beato was never very good at forward planning. She just charges in recklessly, all the time."

"The energy of youth is indeed invigorating."

"Really?~ I find it exhausting, fufu~ When I look at Beato, sometimes I feel so old."

Ronove smiled in his most charming manner. "Don't be ridiculous, Miss Virgilia. You're still as lovely as you were when we first met, if not more~ Pu ku ku..."

"I hope I've improved a lot, lot more than since we first met!" said Virgilia, voice filled with nostalgia. "I was that useless apprentice witch who couldn't master the simplest spells... I would have floundered helplessly if Gaap hadn't appeared to make fun of me, and then decided to show off and play at being a tutor... A witch tutored by a demon; how embarrassing..."

"But you're a very competent witch now, so you really should thank Miss Gaap for being so incapable of not boasting about her powers, pu ku ku~ Moreover, if you hadn't met Miss Gaap, we never would have met, either."

"Ahh, yes... You were the first demon I ever summoned... I was so surprised I nearly fainted, hehe~"

"And for the longest of times you assumed I was a girl because of my long hair, and when Gaap corrected you, you refused to believe her because she was always telling lies... Yes, I remember all of that. Pu ku ku..."

Laughing, the two friends sat opposite one another reminisced, with the scent of tealeaves hovering in the air. It seemed, for a few moments at least, the tense atmosphere had been somewhat broken. However, when Virgilia cleared her throat, that cosy feeling at once seeped away from the scene.

No longer were they two friends talking about all the fun they had experienced as children. It was back to being adults again.

This problem was one of a very serious, very grave nature.

"That's why I'm so concerned," said Virgilia. "You're my very good friend, and I don't want you to get hurt. I realize you're only trying to comfort Battler's bruised pride heal by taking that form and you want to help Beato- _I_want to help that poor child, too- but you shouldn't think only of Beato and Battler. If you do that... then who will think about _you_?"

Lightly, Ronove said, "I have no problems with what I am doing. Honestly, I am fine."

But that answer wasn't enough for Virgilia.

It sounded like a lie.

"You can say that, but, even so… _I_ can still remember what happened all those years ago. I remember what happened to you. And, although it's for Beato's happiness, I don't think you should subject yourself to doing this anymore. It'll only bring up bad memories."

"The events you're referring to happened a long time ago, and concerned a person I haven't seen in an equally long time. It's fine."

"With things like that, does time even matter...?"

"They do say it heals all wounds."

Virgilia sighed. "But we both know, when we look at Beato, that that saying isn't always true."

"Virgilia."

Ronove stood up, looking at Virgilia with something truly indiscernible in his eyes. Virgilia, who had known Ronove longer than anybody apart from those of the Ars Goetia, couldn't even begin to hazard a guess at what_that_ particular expression meant.

She'd never seen it before in her life.

"I assure you," said Ronove, picking up Virgilia's empty teacup, "I'm fine. As I said, it happened a long time ago, and is no longer relevant. Given the pain Milady has been suffering throughout her whole life, I would gladly do anything to ensure she has the happy ending she must deserve. What happens to me is irrelevant. After all, I am merely furniture."

"Ronove..."

"I appreciate your concern, but..."

The teacup in his hand vanished in a burst of golden butterflies.

"...I won't change my mind."

Virgilia sighed.

Had Ronove always been that stubborn… or had he picked that up from Battler, too?

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in another corner of the meta world, Ushiromiya Battler was having a similar conversation...<p>

...with the contents of his own skull.

Battler was lying on his bed, hands behind his head as he stared up at the white, white, _white_ ceiling. The ceiling seemed to stare back at him- penetrating into his _souullll_...

Or, probably not, actually. Walls couldn't stare, and they certainly hadn't mastered the art of diving the insides of human's hearts yet; not even in the meta world. An inanimate object was an inanimate object was an inanimate object, after all. Ihihihi...

_Ow_.

Battler winced, pressing a hand against his temple. He was beginning to get a headache. It was 'cause his head was filled up with so much damn noise.

Maybe being a girl for so long, at the mercy of a bunch of powerful cell-shifting magic, had something to do with the random pains he'd been getting. Being forced into a different form against your will couldn't have been healthy. There must've been a reason why Ronove only retained the girl appearance for certain lengths of time, or why Beato couldn't just use magic to make her tits bigger (not that she really needed to, of course, but it'd be interesting to watch), or why the stakes preferred being humans over being those dangerous, pointy weapons.

Of course, Battler didn't really know much about it. He'd made a point that magic didn't exist and he'd been sticking to it, so trying to discover how it worked had seemed pointless to him. So Battler had no idea whether being forced to look like a girl for so long was going to hurt him or not.

There were a lot of other horrific implications which came with being given a girl's body, too. Battler hadn't given these much thought at first, being too busy lamenting the fact he was now missing several important parts of his anatomy, but after a while these worries had begun to gnaw on him more and more.

What would happen when he started to have periods? Would that even happen? If he was now biologically a girl, then wasn't that a given? Could magic even do that?

The thought of bleeding for four days on end didn't sound appealing at all. If even real girls hated that, then how would somebody who was supposed to be a guy cope? That sort of shit could seriously mess up a person!

…Given Beato hadn't messed him up enough already, of course.

And he hadn't even got started on the thought of somehow 'becoming a mother'... What the hell would happen if a girl who was actually a guy transformed by magic ended up getting pregnant or something?

Given all the people in the meta world were girls (even Ronove at the moment), the fear of getting pregnant wasn't really a problem. Besides, even if Ronove did revert to his male form, Battler still had no worries regarding that. Ronove might have been many things, but Battler did not think he was a rapist.

However, Battler couldn't help worrying about it; and when he thought of the new, alien biology inside his body, he started to feel slightly ill. He was giving it too much thought to be healthy- but, honestly, who _wouldn't_have thought about it if they'd sudden been given a whole brand new, shiny and sparkly reproductive system to replace their old one?

Battler wanted to talk to somebody about this.

He had to, or he'd drive himself _insane_. Doubts were beginning to eat away at him like maggots.

Who could he turn to for help?

…

…

Instantly, the first person that jumped to mind- even above the motherly Virgilia with her advice about Braun tubes- was Ronove.

Ihihi... Had they somehow become that close, without him even noticing?

Well, the pretty face must've had something to do with it. Having the principles of magic explained by a seventeen year old maid didn't sound like a bad way to spend an evening.

When Battler finally made it to the kitchen, though, he didn't meet Ronove. Not even close.

Instead, his eyes and ears were treated to the lovely scene of a young girl in a demure, lacy white nightgown drinking milk. Why, what with all that white and those ribbons, that girl looked a little bit like a wedding cake- but in a very tasteful, adorable way. She was the very epitome of innocence!

Aaah, to think sure a pure maiden still existed, even in the meta world!

However, upon closer inspection...

"E-eek! What are _you_ doing here, Battler?"

She started fretfully, jumping away from the open fridge as though it were diseased. The glass of milk slipped from her fingers and fell to the floor, striking it in such a way the noise echoed through the kitchen.

It was a good thing the glass was empty, and that it hadn't broken.

But, from that awkward movement, Battler _knew_.

It wasn't a 'pure maiden' at all.

That nightdress was deceiving, but it was undeniably, unmistakably one of those big-boobed sisters...

...Although Battler actually couldn't tell which one it was.

What was her name again?

"It's Leviathan!" the stake sister said angrily, glaring at Battler from under her long eyelashes. "Le-vi-a-than! It's not that difficult to remember!"

Battler laughed, suitably chastened by the stake girl. He hadn't realized he'd been speaking aloud.

Leviathan sounded pretty cute when she was so irritated. She was blushing, too- though she would have denied it venomously if he told her. Then, she would have stabbed him. As was her charm.

...Honestly, Battler preferred Ronove's company over those temperamental girls. Battler was never afraid that Ronove would stab him if he looked at him the wrong way. Then again, Leviathan was a lot more adorable; especially in that night dress. So maybe it would be okay if she hurt him a little. After all, love was pain.

"Ihihi, sorry, sorry," Battler aplogized. "It's difficult to tell you sisters apart; you all dress the same, and most of the time you're all cackling and flying around trying to stab me, so I never get a look at your faces."

Leviathan frowned. "T-that's just an excuse! I-I bet you can tell all the others apart except from me!"

Battler had to wonder why she was getting so upset. He came from a pretty big family himself, and when he was younger Rosa had, for some inexplicable reason, always called him 'Jessica'. Battler wasn't sure why, given he wasn't female (well, not _really_) and he didn't look at all like his lovely cousin. However, according to Rosa, when they were young they'd both ran around and shouted a lot, always getting dirty and climbing trees, so sometimes she just saw them as one composite being. Rosa wasn't really very good at dealing with young children. They seemed to exhaust her. Maybe that was because she was the youngest of the siblings herself, so she wasn't as mature as the others?

If Battler had constantly been mistaken for Jessica and took no issue with it, he really didn't see why Leviathan should be upset if he confused her for one of her sisters. They really _did_ look alike- and it wasn't as if Battler was saying anything negative about her appearance.

All the sisters were undeniably beautiful. They'd definitely be the sorts of girls who appeared in bikinis eating suggestive ice pops in certain magazines, ihihi~~

"Well, um, let's see..." Battler said, as he racked his mind for the names and faces of the sisters. "The oldest one with the scary long fingernails is Lucifer. The one with the curly hair who always looks pissed off would be… Satan? The greedy one is Beelze, and the little sister type loli girl with the adorable pigtails is Asmo. That would make the brown haired one who's always teasing people Mammon, and the nice, hard-working, responsible sister who reads a lot and doesn't talk very much Belphegor... right?"

There was a small pause.

Then… Leviathan's face began to contort into something very ugly.

Leviathan may have been pretty, but that was a face that would never have been in a magazine at all. Maybe in a horror movie.

Suddenly, Battler began to fear for his life. Without even thinking about it, he found himself putting his hands before his face as a shield, in case Leviathan tried to stake him in the eyes.

"H-hey, I'm sorry! Did I say something wrong? Did I insult your family honor with my stupid descriptions or something? I must've got at least four out of six on that test, right? Ihihi… hihi… …?"

But, contrary to Battler's expectations, Leviathan didn't try to kill him.

That was always a plus when it came to dealing with women, Battler had found.

Instead, Leviathan sniffed once, twice... and then...

"Hey… Leviathan? Um…" Battler was about to call her 'big-boobed sister', as he often did inside his head. However, he felt coarse language like that might have upset her further. So, instead, he settled for the rather less offensive, and a lot more cute-sounding, "little sister…?" instead.

Not that he was trying to replace Ange or anything. He just didn't want to get hurt.

But it didn't matter what he said. That 'little sister' had no effect.

Leviathan was still sniffing.

And then, in about three seconds, she promptly burst into tears.

Her cheeks were flushed bright red, like apples- and it kind of went with her light green hair. Those babyish tears sluicing down her cheeks made that curly hair stick to her face. She had only been crying for a few moments, but those small sobs escalated into a real, full-blown _breakdown_quicker than blinking. She was even better at crying than little children were!

At that moment, Battler knew he was in the presence of a girl who cried a lot, and had honed crying to be a virtual art.

She was very, very good at it.

Battler wondered if she could do that at will. Maybe she'd make a good TV actress with skills like that!

Then again, Leviathan didn't look particularly _pretty_ when she was wailing like that. Her nose was running, she was making funny choking noises like she couldn't breathe, her shoulders were shaking, and there was absolutely nothing graceful about her at all. Battler imagined that Lucifer wouldn't cry at all, or if she did, she'd do so in a refined manner, maybe with one or two perfect tears. Leviathan was the second oldest sister, wasn't she? But she wasn't following Lucifer's (imagined) example at all.

Her sobs were just like a kid's.

Despite her mature body, it seemed Leviathan was still… a child? Not even Ange cried like that.

Maybe 'little sister' was a fitting name for her after all.

Battler felt almost sorry for her.

Men should never, ever make girls cry. Not even murderous ones.

"You just... you j-just... _hic..._" Leviathan hiccupped weakly; wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. "Y-you just proved my point, y-you jerk! _Sob__… __h-hic__… _U-uwaaahhhhh!"

Battler didn't really know how to reply to that. He could hardly even understand what she'd just said.

Leviathan continued; apparently unable to stop now she'd started. "You said, you... you... _hic_... Y-you could name all my other sisters, and knew their personality t-t-traits... _hic..._B-but you didn't know mine! If I hadn't told you my name you wouldn't have remembered me! Sometimes even Milady forgets my name... _hic..._A-am I really that... t-that boring and uninteresting? I-I know my sisters are all better than me, b-better than me at… at… a-at _everything_, but you could at least try and pretend you remember my face! It's just not fair! Why is it always me? I-I'm sick of being left out or ignored or f-forgotten… j-just because I'm u-u… u-U-uwaahhhhhh!"

Battler watched in horror as the young stake girl tearfully poured her heart out to him. How had an angry debate about remembering her name ('can't I just call you a big-boobed sister?' '_No_! It's Leviathan! Le-_vi_-a-than!' 'tch, you say that name like it's nothing, but it's friggin _huge_! It has way too parts to it to be comfortable to say!') turned into a counselling session?

It was weird to think the stakes had emotions, too. Of course, Battler knew they did, and personalities… but it was difficult comparing this crying young girl to the gleefully murderous girl who had been staking his family.

How could a murderer have a complex personality? In TV shows they were always heartless villains with black and white moralities, making them easy to hate.

In real life, though, that wasn't the case, was it?

Leviathan might have been a killer, but she was still just a young girl, a _child_- she looked even younger than Battler. She still had her own insecurities and complexes, and a bunch of other problems Battler had never considered before, and she was still a person.

There was more to her than a murderer.

And maybe, just maybe…

There was more than that to Beato, too.

People were never just one thing. They were always built up of a lot more than that. Sometimes, it just took a little digging to find out what a person was really like.

Leviathan continued to snivel and hiccup in the most depressing, pathetic way, wiping her eyes with so much force she managed to rub the rims of her eyes red raw, like fresh meat. Even so, the tears didn't stop.

"I-I... I hate it... E-everyone forgets me... I'm no good at fighting, a-and I don't have any special qualities... _hic_... I-I'm not good at fighting like Satan, or smart like Belphe o-or... o-or confident like Luci... and I can't get people to like me like Mammon and Beelze and Asmo... _Hic_. I-I'm... I'm..."

Leviathan grabbed hold of a handful of her hair, tugging at it as though she wanted to tear it out of her scalp. And, who knew. Maybe she did.

However, when she next spoke, her voice was quiet.

Barely a whisper.

"I'm so _ugly_... ...

"I-I wish I was pretty, too… I wish I was like the others…"

Battler wasn't really sure, and he wasn't the best at understanding other people's feelings, but even to him, those sounded like the honest, heartbroken words of a girl with cripplingly low self esteem. Battler had been to high school, of course; he should still have been attending, and if that storm never happened on Rokkenjima he would've been back in class the following Monday with some fun stories to tell about his weird relatives for the others.

Battler had seen girls in his class pouring over pictures of fashion models with jealous looks in their eyes, or refusing to eat because they were on diets, or constantly applying inches of make-up every other second so people thought they were beautiful.

Being a girl sounded like a lot of hard work. Just because he looked like one now, thanks to Beato, that didn't mean Battler instantly knew what some girls went through in their quests against their own bodies to look pretty. He didn't understand at all.

It looked like this cute stake girl wasn't all that different from some of the girls in Battler's school.

"I-I was a little excited when M-Milady had a, a-a… _hic__… _h-handsome _than_boy as a plaything- I thought m-maybe I'd get some attention, but, but… _hic_… I-I'll always be compared to my sisters! H-he only noticed the others, not me, b-because… B-because I'm, I'm… … H-huh? O-oh no! U-uwahhhh…!"

Suddenly embarrassed, as though afraid she'd said too much, Leviathan's face flooded beet red. She got to her feet so quickly she knocked her chair over (she seemed to be a pretty clumsy person), and turned about, as though ready to leave. She buried her head in her hands as she did so.

Aww…

What a cute klutz.

It wasn't like Battler could let such an adorable girl run off sobbing like that.

"Hey, big b- I mean..." He paused; a small grin spreading across his lips. Mirroring her forced separation of the syllables in her name perfectly, Battler said, "Little sis. Le-_vi_-a-than, wasn't it?~ I think you stressed the 'vi' like that, ihhi…"

Leviathan paused. No longer did she attempt to run. Everybody about her froze. Even the tears beading in her eyes seemed to have halted.

With a slow, almost mechanical air, she lifted her head from her hands… and turned around.

"Is that why you were drinking milk?" Battler asked, grinning widely. Indicating the glass Leviathan had dropped on the floor, he said teasingly, "You wanted to make your boobs grow bi~gger, huuuh?~~ You wanted to get my attention that badly?"

"T-that's none of your concern! I-I don't need to answer impertinent questions from a human!"

Battler sniggered. So he was right, then.

"Ah, I'm flattered you want me to like you so much- I'm really flattered!"

"No! It's not like that, absolutely not!"

"Hey, don't worry about it, Levia."

"L-levia...?"

"S'easier to say," Battler explained. "Plus, nicknames sound cute, don't they?~ Ihihihi... A girl like you needs a cute nickname too! Didn't your sisters give you one?"

"N-not really…"

"Well, you can use mine. Maybe people couldn't remember your name because it's so damn long? If you lived in Japan nobody would ever forget you, though; names like that are super rare in the real world. So are pretty girls like you! Everybody would love you- they wouldn't be able to take their eyes off you!"

Leviathan's lips twitched slightly, as though she was wondering whether to smile a small, grateful, flattered smile, or instead scowl angrily. She was a proud stake of purgatory, after all- she didn't need Battler's sympathy!

But… that didn't mean she didn't want it…

"I-I would stand out if I lived in Japan? You really think so?" she asked softly, voice hopeful. "I'm really not that special; I'm so ordinary it hurts… I-I just want to stand out a little more among my sisters…"

"Don't be silly, little sis." Battler smiled, reaching forwards to pat her on the head. "You demon people are the most not-ordinary people I've _ever_ met."

"B-but I'm… plain…"

"Hey, now. Looks don't matter. It's not on the outside that's matter- it's on the in, right?"

Leviathan's face fell. "But people can't see what's on the inside, so they don't judge it…"

"Not at first, no. That comes later. And it's people who look at your inner prettiness whose opinions you should really care about, anyway. If somebody wants to judge you on your appearance, tell them they're wrong a thousand times over- to really grow to love a person you have to look deeper than that; otherwise you're not a human being worthy of having friends at all!"

Battler wondered if he sounded cool. It was a speech he'd been working on if Ange ever faced issues about her appearance at some point in the future, so he could make her feel better.

It seemed to be working on Leviathan. Her eyes were shining… and it looked like she was trying not to smile.

"Ahahaha- not that you have to worry about your appearance anyway, little sis. You're plenty sweet on the outside already, so if you have a rotten core people will be more forgiving! Ihihihi~"

"M-my core isn't rotten! I-I'm a serious, hard-working girl! I just feel a bit… depressed, sometimes… T-that's all…"

"Then you have nothing to worry about," said Battler, ruffling Leviathan's hair firmly.

Her face bloomed bright red under his fingers.

Cute, so cuuute~ It was just like petting a cat. Battler half expected her to meow next. Oooh, now, what would the big boobed sisters look like in kitty ears…?~ Ihihi…

Leviathan was trying to hardest to retain a stony expression, but she couldn't. She must have realized it was already a waste of time trying to act professional, as her big sister did, when she'd already broken down in front of Battler and started crying. Maybe that was why she let her real emotions show more easily. Leviathan had never been good at hiding her feelings anyway.

She… really was grateful, huh?

Battler was honestly a little surprised. Did she really have such low self worth any compliment meant the moon to her, even from a guy like him? Had nobody ever told her she was fine the way she was before?

She must have had it tough, being a sister in a family of seven, trying to live up the expectations placed upon her as being one of the eldest. That would put pressure on anybody. Surely she would be jealous of Lucifer, who seemed able to keep her head in a crisis- not to mention Belphegor, who was so serious in everything she did.

Leviathan's situation wasn't all that different from Jessica's, really, being the successor to the Ushiromiya family. Young people couldn't cope with that amount of stress.

Battler honestly never thought he'd sympathize with the stakes, but it looked like their situations were actually quite easy to comprehend.

He might as well go the extra mile to ensure he'd truly cheered her up.

"And…" A lecherous smile spread across Battler's face "Your boobs are _plenty_big enough already, you know? You're just as adorable as all your other sisters~ If I had to pick between you, I don't think I could! I seriously couldn't! Why couldn't I just gather you all together in one big harem and make myself your master? Aaaa, that would be heaven!"

Battler waited, fully aware it was coming, unable to suppress a more genuine smile in anticipation of the inevitable. It nearly always happened when he said stupid stuff like that, and it always occurred within a mere matter of seconds.

Leviathan's reaction should be priceless.

Wait for it...

Three...

Two...

One...

And-

"K-kyahhh! P-pervert! Don't comment on a lady's body like that; I-I'm not a piece of meat! You're _disgusting_! I-I hope Milady tortures you even more, just like the pig you are! I hope she crushes every single bone in your disgusting body, from your fingertips to your toes! People like you deserve to die!"

And with that, Leviathan vanished in a cloud of butterflies.

She vanished just in time.

If she had stayed any longer, Battler would have seen that she was blushing... and he would have seen the small, silly, trying-to-hide-it-but-it's-still-there smile on her face.

* * *

><p>Cute? Was she?<p>

Nobody had ever called Leviathan that before. Nobody ever even acknowledged she existed.

Leviathan was used to being overshadowed by her sisters, and sometimes she hated them- she hated herself. She was so jealous of everything they had and she didn't she couldn't stand it.

But... Battler thought she was cute...?

He was only a foolish, ignorant human of course, and his words didn't mean anything unless they were in red, but...

Even so, Leviathan couldn't help but feel happy.

_No__ wonder __Milady__ likes __him __so __much._

* * *

><p><strong>an: **So, Battler and Ronove don't actually interact in this chapter o:  
>Well, technically they do, because this chapter is actually double this length, but I split it up for ease of reading. I'll upload the last half maybe tomorrow, with a lot more of Battler and Ronove's very slow building relationship ^_^;; I just want to make it believable…~<p>

Um, the Leviathan stuff wasn't intended to be so long, but it happened like that anyway… :3 It is kind of important to the story, given a few things Battler tells her, & it relates to this whole theme I have goin' on… This section could probably be a bit shorter, but I never write about Leviathan, and not many other people do either, so I wanted to give her a little bit of a spotlight. So the poor crybaby sister of purgatory deserves some love, too :3

Um, yeah. Reviews are nice? XD~ Just want to know what people think.  
>I hope you don't mind I take so much to talk about other characters…? ^^<p>

**~renahhchen****xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Just**** The ****Way ****You ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Six

* * *

><p>"You know... I think what you said to Miss Leviathan was very kind."<p>

"E-eh? Ronove?"

Battler had been happily basking in the warmth created by doing good deeds for others unrewarded. Yeah, it might have sounded corny, but Battler was a corny person. His name might have suggested otherwise, given it had connotations of fighting and head-smashing (which was probably why young girls at his elementary school had been torn between laughing at his stupid name and being downright _terrified_of him for it), but it wasn't like names shaped people. Battler had always been pretty sentimental at heart, and suddenly becoming a big brother to an adorable young sister had made it even worse.

Battler had always disliked seeing girls cry. Now, he _hated_ it. It always made him think of Ange, and then his big brother instincts would kick in.

It was pretty easy to tug at his heart strings, actually. Battler couldn't help but grin a little sheepishly at this thought. If Beato pulled a wide-eyed, adorable act at some point, he might actually get fooled.

So, yeah.

He was a sentimental idiot.

He didn't need Ronove to point that out.

Battler hadn't even noticed Ronove had entered the kitchen until a few moments ago- and he hated being caught off guard like that. Well… he doubted many people enjoyed that feeling of sudden surprise, but that was beside the point.

Maybe he should have expected it. Given that he was surrounded by demon bastards who could all teleport, it was only to be expected he'd be crept up on like that.

Funnily enough, Battler didn't mind being ambushed by the cute stakes of purgatory. He didn't like it when Ronove did that, though.

Especially not when Ronove wasn't in his female form.

Ronove he looked just as he usually did, mustache and height and small smile and all.

That was how it should be, right? That was normal, wasn't it?

When Ronove looked like that there was no chance of Battler having anymore weird dreams or fantasies about him, and Battler's feelings towards him weren't nearly so confused. So that was fine.

But…

Battler shuddered.

Something about Ronove's appearance didn't feel right. It was almost as if the short maid who couldn't walk in heels and chatted idly with him to keep him company was a completely different person to Beato's disturbing butler- and a much _nicer_ person, too.

Battler couldn't even line up Beato's butler and that maid together in his head anymore. They simply didn't fit.

They couldn't be the same person; it just didn't seem possible! Battler couldn't have felt any kind of warm friendship towards _Ronove_, could he?

_Gahhh._

It was useless, all useless- and now he was beginning to get a headache!

That maid and Beato's butler weren't different people. They were the same. But still...

"Battler? Are you alright" asked Ronove softly, looking at Battler with concern. "Did I surprise you by appearing so suddenly?"

Well, it was as good an excuse as any.

"Um... Yeah, a little."

"I apologize. I heard you and Miss Leviathan talking, and I thought it would be ungracious to walk into such a delicate conversation, so I waited until the pair of you had finished. I quite forgot you didn't know I was here- but you'll have to forgive me. Demons who have lived for as long as I can be forgetful on occasions, pu ku ku~"

Battler watched with narrowed eyes as Ronove sat down in the seat before him.

Inadvertently, Battler found himself shifting back ever so slightly in his chair.

Ronove was easier to talk to when he was a girl, and cuter, and not quite so tall...

Battler had never really felt vulnerable in his female form before, given everybody else in the meta world was a girl, too- or had been pretending, like Ronove. Now, however…

Well…

Of course, it wasn't like anything would happen- not really; but it was difficult not to feel slightly on edge when Battler remembered Ronove's words from earlier… '_I__ happen __to__ love __those __kinds__ of __situations... __pu __ku __ku~'_

And his tendency to stand too close.

"Battler...?"

Oh, great. And now Battler couldn't look Ronove in the eye without feeling ill.

_Thanks, brain, for that freaky train of thought. Thanks a lot._

"Why do you look like that?" Battler suddenly asked, his voice colder than he really intended. "I thought you were going to take on that other appearance around me while... While I still look like _this_."

There was a small pause.

Battler was avoiding looking at Ronove so he couldn't see his facial expression. However, even if he had been able to see it, he wouldn't have understood it. Neither would he have tried to. But Virgilia would have been able to interpret that expression. She would have been able to interpret it easily.

It was a look of hurt.

Genuine hurt.

But it was only there for a few moments.

It vanished so quickly it was possible to blink and miss it- almost as if the brief moment of weakness had never been there at all. Furniture was trained not to show emotions, after all.

"Ah yes..." said Ronove. "I was talking to Miss Virgilia in regards to my appearance earlier, and we decided it would be best if I didn't take that form for great lengths of time. Using magic like that can be very draining, and it is beginning to tire me somewhat. However, I did promise I would try to show you some sense of solidarity, so... Just for a few moments, I suppose it would be fine. I will do as you command."

"Hey. I'm not _commanding_ you. If… If using magic like that really is exhausting, you don't have to do it. Don't make me feel guilty."

"You don't need to feel guilty. I honestly don't mind."

And with that, a very familiar cloud of golden butterflies began to seep through the air.

"Is this any better?~" asked Ronove, smiling. "Master Battler?"

When the butterflies dispersed, once more there sat that pretty maid with the long hair and wide eyes. Battler's momentary dislike of Ronove vanished along with the multitude of butterflies.

So it was true.

It really _was_ a lot like easier to like people you found attractive.

Urgh… Since when was dealing with Ronove so exhausting?

Battler tried to return Ronove's smile.

"Yeah, that's better. Now, I can actually look at your face when you talk without wanting to punch it, ihihi."

Um… D-did that comment come across as being too sharp? Battler had only wanted to lighten the mood a little- but he couldn't help but worry he'd made it worse.

"Well, that is quite beneficial. I can't imagine we'd be able to have pleasant conversations if you were unable to resist the urge of attacking me."

At least Ronove was able to take Battler's less-than-gracious comment and turn it into something light-hearted that genuinely made him smile.

"You know, it'd be pretty good if there was a servant like you in the Ushiromiya family," said Battler on a sudden whim.

"Oh? And why's that?"

"The adults are always falling out; they're just like bickering children. Making snide remarks, saying cruel stuff, and then feelings get hurt... But a person like you would probably be able to stop arguing like that before it gets out hand, right?" Battler grinned. "I wish I was good with words like that. I'd be rich."

"On most occasions you're a very commendable speaker. You were able to comfort Miss Leviathan."

"Yeah, but being a chivalrous pervert can only work with certain people." Battler grinned, looking sheepish, as he rubbed the back of his head. "I bet if I said stuff like that in the family conference Aunt Natsuhi would go _mad_. She's a little difficult to deal with, really... I'm no good at talking with serious people like that. I never know what to say."

"Then you must be _delighted_ I'm so much fun to be with."

"Well, 'fun' is one word for it. Personally, I'd call you 'annoying'."

"Yes, that term has been applied to me before... I wonder why."

"Oh yeah, it's such a _mystery_."

Ronove grinned. "You should count yourself lucky I spend so much time in the company of charming girls like Miss Beelzebub and Mss Mammon, or I might not have the necessary patience required to sit and smile whilst you make so many cutting comments about me. Other demons definitely wouldn't stand for it... I must be the only strange one."

"Other demons…?"

"Yes, other demons. There are seventy-two of us."

"_S__eventy__two?_"

"That is correct, yes."

"But that's, like... I'm trying to deny _seventy-__two _demons? I'm just one human! Doesn't that seem a little unfair? Now I feel like going into a battle against a whole army with only a stick! This really is useless!"

Ronove smiled at Battler's outburst. "Technically, you're only trying to deny Milady. The demons not affiliated with her wouldn't care whether you defeated her or not; it wouldn't directly impact them."

"But wouldn't you guys, like, band together to defeat the enemy?"

"Not really. Demons are, for the most part, very selfish. It's a manner of self preservation. It ensures they don't get dragged into other people's fights. We're taught to be ruthless; it makes offensive magic stronger. A demon could never hope to truly hurt anybody if there wasn't any real emotion or meaning behind their attacks. It's part of our nature, I'm afraid."

Battler looked at Ronove in surprise. He tried to match what Ronove was saying to the person sat before him- but he couldn't. Battler had never seen Ronove use any offensive magic, but Beato's charming butler certainly didn't seem 'ruthless', or even selfish. Would a selfish person let a twitchy mess of blonde curls and sugary fingers like Beelzebub tackle him to the ground? Would he concern himself over Leviathan's sense of self worth? Would he talk about Beatrice like a doting parent?

Those weren't the sorts of things a selfish person would do.

"You say that, but..." Battler looked at Ronove earnestly. "You're not like that."

Ronove smiled sardonically. "To my own discredit, I assure you. I'm not nearly as strong as some of the other demons. There are quite fearsome people."

"Then why doesn't Beato summon them?"

"Because… and I hesitate to speak ill of my own family like this, but…"

"Don't worry, I can keep a secret."

"Ahh, well… Truth be told, the most highly ranked demons aren't very much fun to be with. They're rarely summoned as furniture, and only answer to the most powerful of witches and sorcerers. I imagine a person like Milady, who has informal, friendly relations with all those in her employ, wouldn't get along with them very well; they're too disciplined, and far too focused on their job. And, of course, Milady enjoys my sparkling wit and charisma too much to give it up, pu ku ku~"

"Not to mention all those cookies and tea."

"That too."

Battler and Ronove looked at one another, both smiling- and, at the same time, they both began to laugh.

It was strange, thought Battler, that this all seemed so... comfortable. Battler had thought he would hate spending time with Ronove, but it was exactly the opposite.

He was actually... beginning to enjoy himself.

When his family didn't keep dying over and over again, the meta world… wasn't that bad. Drinking tea, talking to those cute stakes, discussing weird things like magic he didn't even believe in with Ronove...

It felt almost as if he'd been introduced into another family.

A large, messed up, but ultimately caring family.

Although Battler was pissed at Beato for, well, being Beato, he realized she was stalling the game until he could get his normal appearance back. Although Battler wasn't thrilled at being a girl, he had needed a break- especially after that weird fantasy fight scene with Virgilia that had nearly broken his brain. Those four giant towers had been the last straw.

Maybe...

Maybe Beato had changed him on purpose... so she had an_excuse_ to delay the third game?

Could that be possible…? Or was he being too optimistic?

"So, Ronove. When do you think Beato'll change me back?"

Ronove paused, as though in deep thought. Apparently, that was a question too complex even for him, who claimed to be fluent in Latin. Battler didn't disbelieve that claim, either. Maybe if he was a one thousand year old demon he'd be bored enough to learn dead languages that were of no real worth, too.

"That, I could not say," Ronove finally replied. "Milady is a very fickle person."

"Just like a little kid, huh?"

"Exactly."

"Ihihi. Maybe you're right. If an 'endless witch' like her really can alter people magically, then maybe..." Battler smiled just a little sheepishly. "Maybe, if I had those awesome powers, even I'd be tempted to experiment a bit."

"Most new witches do experiment a lot, yes. The results border on somewhat amusing to quite disturbing."

"I can only imagine, ihihi~ And… if it's possible to bring people back to life, then maybe, to witches, humans could stop looking human and become... dolls? And young girls do some really horrible things to their dolls."

Battler sighed, reminiscing. He could still remember the time when he'd found his cute little sister, who would normally never hurt anybody, watching the popped-off head of one of her cheap dolls rotate round slowly, slowly, in the microwave.

The kitchen had smelt of melted plastic for _ages_ afterwards.

Battler was sure even he'd done things like that when he was a child.

He must have done.

Jessica had, too.

And they weren't the only ones.

Maybe Beato was the same. Battler wasn't sure what kind of childhood a girl like her could have had, but maybe she'd been a lonely kid without any dolls to destroy. If that was the case, then it made sense she'd use her magic to make human dolls, and she wouldn't even understand it was crossing a line because she had magic to make everything better.

When Battler looked at it like that, he found he didn't hate Beato nearly as much.

Being cruel and being 'evil' weren't necessarily the same things. Had Ange been 'evil' when she melted the head of her doll?

"That's it," said Ronove, a small, surprised smile on his face. "I didn't expect you to grasp the situation so easily, especially after all Milady has put you through... but you seem to understand her character rather well."

"If we're talking about kids, you've gotta remember I have a little sister. If I compare Beato to Ange, maybe I can understand her actions... Even if I don't agree with them."

"That's very mature of you." Ronove bowed his head in silent thanks. The gratitude in that expression was almost overwhelming.

"Ihihihi~ You really are tryin' to get me to sign up to the Beato fanclub, aren't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, pu ku ku~"

"Rotten liar."

Ronove didn't even try to deny it. He just smiled.

So… Beato wasn't inherently cruel. It was a little difficult to believe, especially given all she had done, but... Ronove might have been right.

Geez.

Now Battler didn't know how he felt about her.

"Hey, Ronove."

"Battler?"

"You're good at magic, aren't you?"

"You're asking me if I'm good at something you don't believe in?"

"Hihihi... Clever bastard. But, at this point, I think denying magic in this weird... white... place would be completely useless. And I'm not in the mood. I'm just tired of looking like this." Battler gestured towards himself, pulling a face. "You can use magic, right?"

"Yes?"

Battler didn't waste any time. Instantly, he asked, "Then, can you change me back?"

Ronove raised a brow. "You trust me enough to ask me to use magic to alter your appearance further?"

"Well, yeah. You're not, like, completely insane like Beato. You seem like a pretty decent person, all things considered. I mean, in demon terms."

"I'm 'decent'?~ Ahh, that's high praise indeed from you!"

"I'm feeling generous, alright? You got me thinking about Ange- that always makes me get all sentimental and sappy," said Battler warmly. "And, well... I know you're good at changing your own appearance. So can't you change me back, too? Tell Beato I appreciate her trying to stall this game or whatever, if that's what she's trying to do by keeping me like this, but we can't stall forever. Let's keep going. I want my old body back now. I'm getting body-sick, ihihi."

Ronove looked thoughtful for a few moments.

That… wasn't a good expression he was wearing. Even before he opened his mouth, Battler was sure of the answer.

"This is difficult to explain, but-"

Battler cut Ronove off swiftly.

"In short, the answer's 'no', isn't it?"

Ronove nodded. For once, he sounded genuinely apologetic when he said he was sorry.

Battler sighed.

Well. Asking had been worth a shot.

"I'm not refusing merely out of spite. It is... How can I explain this?" Ronove pondered. Finally, he said, "Magic is very delicate, you must understand. When one witch had cast a particular spell, it can be exceedingly difficult for another one to correct it. Witches and sorcerers draw on their own emotions to create their magic- and demons are no different, really. This makes magic very personal to whoever used it. So, attempting to alter the effects of others' magic can cause some very strange things to happen. Let's see... If an artist was to paint a picture and another artist decided they didn't like a certain detail of it, they might try to change it. But because the second artist might have a different style of painting to the former, it would almost impossible for them to make their changes blend in properly with the old picture. The most likely end result is they ruin the old painting. And trying to alter another's magic is a little like that. Do you follow?"

At the mention of pictures, Battler suddenly found himself thinking of happier times in elementary school when he used to make cute potato prints in art class. He'd take those awful splotches of color home to his parents, and that old bastard would ruffle his hair and his mom would giggle and put on the fridge.

Battler wasn't sure why that memory sprung to mind, really. It was pointless, anyway. Those days were long, long gone. That old bastard was stuck in Beato's demented toy box, and his mom...

She'd already been dead a long, long time.

Wow. Now_that_ a cheerful subject to dwell on.

"Battler?" He was finally dragged back into the present by the sound of Ronove's voice. "Are you alright? Is this talk of magic uninteresting?"

"Oh, no- no, it's interesting. And I understand what you're trying to say." Battler, desperate to forget the rather melancholy images that were plaguing his head, began to question Ronove further. "Is that why Virgilia didn't just make all those towers and stuff Beato conjured disappear during their fight?"

"That would be exactly why, yes. Making matter created by somebody else vanish can be dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"Mm… There are a lot of horror stories about those sorts of things. There are even rules with magic, you know?"

"Rules? Looking at Beato, I wouldn't imagine _she'd _want to follow rules."

"That is quite true. However, these rules really are very practical, and not following them could result in some rather nasty accidents; especially for finite witches who cannot ensure an altered object indefinitely retains its new state. For example, what would happen if a witch turned something inedible, like a brick, into food, and then consumed it? The effects of the magic wouldn't last forever, the object would remember its original state, and then..."

Battler winced. Having bits of food reform themselves into a single brick inside the digestive tract sounded like an especially painful way to die...

"It's quite disturbing to think about, no? There are more rules of a similar kind- but I doubt you want to discuss this now, hm?"

"Ihihi, well... This is kind of stuff is pretty horrible. But, um..." Battler sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Ah... I think I'm a little tired."

"I understand. You're a human, after all, so maybe all this talk of magic is draining. Not to mention, you've been through an awful lot." Ronove smiled sympathetically, in a way that made Battler feel just a bit flustered. "Would you like to talk about something more in your area of expertise, like... maybe books?"

At the mention of books, Battler brightened considerably. He might not have looked like it, but he really did enjoy reading; especially mystery novels. He found the mysteries that Beato created far more unfair than the ones he encountered in books, but they were still a fun challenge.

Well, they would have been… if the stakes hadn't been so very high.

With the cheerful enthusiasm of one who wants to show off just a little, Battler found himself talking about his favorite books. As it turned out, Ronove wasn't such a huge fan of mysteries, and preferred all those old classical books Battler had never found particularly interesting.

"How can you sit through such huge stories? It sounds so dull!"

"I have a lot of spare time. Moreover, that time goes by quickly when I'm reading. You really should read something by Victor Hugo, too; just for the experience."

"But he was, like, German."

"French, actually."

"Whatever! How can you read something in a language you don't understand?"

"There are things called translations."

Battler found himself flushing with embarrassment. H-how could he have forgotten about that? That was simple…

Ihihi… He had a habit of saying stupid things.

"Well, I bet that wouldn't matter to you," said Battler, folding his arms. "I bet you can speak French anyway, right?"

"Well, one doesn't like to boast..."

But Battler wasn't easily deterred.

"So, many languages _do_ you know?"

Ronove blinked, looking up at the ceiling as though trying to decide whether it would be terribly arrogant to give the real figure, or make one up. When his eyes met Battler's again, he was smiling a small, mysterious smile.

He placed his index finger at his lips.

And then he said, voice light and playful, in perfect English, "That's top secret~"

There was a small silence.

And then Battler began to laugh.

"Hm? What's so funny?"

"Nothing," said Battler, between his sniggers. "Really, it's just… Ihihi. T-that kind of brings back memories! Yeah- of course, you wouldn't know, but… Well. She used to do that all the time, too!"

"…She?"

Battler nodded.

Everything about the execution of that incredibly show-offy bit of gratuitous English had been exactly the same as what Takane always used to do.

Shijou Takane had been the European girl at Battler's old high school. There were rumors she was born in Germany- but there were also weird stories she was from the moon, given her slightly odd mannerisms, her habit of taking jokes too seriously and her long, almost white-blonde hair. Not even people from Germany had hair that color, right?

And what Ronove had done... was _exactly_what Takane did when Battler finally, after about three months of staring, decided to ask her if she wanted to go out with him.

She'd smiled, pressed her finger against her lips, and repeated the same enigmatic line in perfect English.

_It's__top__secret_.

It was a small thing, really, and it didn't mean all that much- but now that Battler thought about it, Ronove even looked a little like the so-called Moon Princess, save the blonde hair. They spoke somewhat alike, too.

Was that why Battler enjoyed spending time with Ronove so much in his female form?

That vaguely familiar face reminded Battler, just little, of his normal home life, and the people he knew at school. It was a nice connection to make- and it made Ronove feel a little friendlier, and Battler a little less lost in this world of big-boobed stake sisters and perfect closed room mysteries he couldn't solve.

"Mm. You remind me of a girl I know," said Battler.

A girl he'd probably never see again.

Takane... and the rest of his class, too.

Would they miss him, when he never came back from Rokkenjima?

…That was depressing, too.

"Is this a flattering comparison?" asked Ronove curiously. "Is this girl I'm similar to a person I would want to be associated with?"

"Yes... It's a _very _flattering comparison." Battler smiled softly, warmly, as he let himself remember. "Just now, you... You're beginning to remind of a girl I had a huge crush on."

* * *

><p><strong>an:** Haha, it took me a while to proof-read this one… There was so much stuff I didn't like about it XD I really hated how it was written at some points XDD  
>So, I hope it's okay. And not too boring. Cause it's mostly, yanno, conversation. I just want Battler and Ronove's relationship to be IC and realistic… and not rushed :3<br>This fic should get interesting next chapter, hopefully XD Because then… STUFF happens o:

**~renahhchen****xoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Just**** The ****Way ****Y****ou ****Are****  
><strong>Chapter Seven

* * *

><p>"Heeeey, Beato~ What on earth are you doing? I'm getting bored waiting."<p>

"Um... Ah... ahaha... ha... hahakikikikikyahahaaaa!~ Aaaah, Lady Lambdadelta, I know you like acting childish, but don't be so impatient! The waiting is what makes this game really fun, riiiight?~"

"Oh dear."

At the sound of that empty, emotionless voice, Beatrice lifted her head, bravado slipping somewhat.

"What is it, Lady Bernkastel?"

Bernkastel took a small sip of her plum tea, tail twitching slightly. When she put back down on its saucer with a small _chnk_ of china, Beatrice felt her heart rise up into her mouth. It seemed like that small, insignificant noise heralded some rather unpleasant news.

Everything about Lady Bernkastel was unpleasant, from her pale skin to her dead, empty eyes. They showed as much emotion as muddy pond water did. Even the so-called 'great Golden Witch' felt herself shiver when those purple irises met hers'. Bernkastel may have been half her size, with the body of a small child, but she had the mind of any cruel witch hunter of the 15th century. She was a witch who derived endless pleasure from backing the helpless into corners and submitting them to eternal torture; torture far crueller than pricking exposed flesh with needles looking for the devil's mark, or the rack, or thumbscrews.

Oh, how Beatrice hated that witch... If only she could gouge her eyes out with a spoon, so those blank, empty irises would stop boring into her head.

After a sizable pause, Bernkastel began to speak. Her voice was dull and monotonous- but Beatrice knew what lurked behind that mask, and she had to force herself not to tremble.

"It is true that some wines and cheeses develop a heightened flavor after being left alone for a long time... but the waiting process in itself is rather boring." Bernkastel's eyes narrowed slightly. "And I despise boredom."

"That's right, that's right!" Lambdadelta chipped in, resting her head on Bernkastel's shoulder. "That's why, when I'm with my precious Beeern, we think up lots of interesting ways to pass the time, hohoho!~"

Bernkastel didn't even blink or turn her head.

"...Get off me."

"E-ehhh? Bern...? What's wroooong?~"

"Your company is unwanted at this point in time. Pipe down, Lambda. The adults are talking."

"Ooooh..." Lambdadelta's cheeks turned light pink. Pushing herself away from Bernkastel, she said huffily, "F-fine! I don't care; I don't even care! You're just a big old meanie-face, Bern! Tsun!"

And with that, she stuck her nose up in the air and folded her arms.

Despite her slight flutterings of fear, Beatrice couldn't help but smile at that performance. She had never seen two people more mismatched who spent so much time together.

Apart from maybe Gaap and Virgilia, of course.

Beatrice could never tell whether Bernkastel and Lambdadelta liked one another or despised each other. Maybe they themselves weren't entirely sure.

"I think you've upset Lady Lambdadelta with your cruel words, ufufufufu~" said Beatrice, cackling. "Isn't she the high-maintenance type who needs a lot of love and affection?"

"She is a very lonely, pitiable child, yes."

"H-hey! Bern! Don't tell Beato _that_!"

"But it is true, is it not? But don't worry. If you behave, I'll cover you with melted chocolate and strawberries and lick it all off as a reward... ... okay?"

Lambdadelta's eyes began to sparkle. "Oooh! Okay, okay!~ I love you, Bernnnn!"

"Ahaha... Well, isn't that nice? What a fun hobby you two have~ Kyahahahaha!~"

"Indeed." Bernkastel stared at Beatrice unblinkingly. "At any rate... Some food does mature with age... but others go moldly, ugly and inedible. Your brutal, one-sided game isn't as refined as wine or cheese. It's more like cheap rice curry... and if you leave it unattended for too long it will congeal together, and go cold, and then nobody will want to eat it."

"T-tch... Insulting the host of your tea party. How rude."

"Oh. I'm sorry." But Bernkastel didn't sound sorry at all.

Beatrice shifted slightly in her seat. She tried not to betray her emotions by displaying them on her face, but Beatrice was a very honest person. She found it difficult to hide her real feelings. She wasn't like Lambdadelta or Bernkastel, who were accomplished liars. She was still... just a young girl...

"I'll get to the point," said Bernkastel coolly. "I want you to resume your game immediately."

"Seconded~" said Lambdadelta, raising her hand in the air. "I didn't bestow my am~a~zing magical powers on you for you to mess around and turn Battler into Battler_ko_, you know... Even if she does look really cuuu~uuutee...~ Oooh, I kind of want to take her home!~ Ohohohoho- o-owww..."

Lambdadelta pouted as Bernkastel gently hit her upside the head.

"Enough of this childish nonsense," Bernkastel said sharply. "Stop stalling for time. Return your opponent to his natural state and commence the game, Beatrice."

"Hoh..." Beatrice raised a brow, a smirk splitting across her face. She was doing her best to hide her real feelings... but she couldn't ignore the butterflies of doubt that gathered inside her stomach. "And if I refuse?"

She soon wished she hadn't said that.

Lambdadelta wore the mask of a cute little girl so well Beatrice sometimes forgot what was lurking underneath it... but when she saw that wide, wide smile, and those eyes so large they seemed to eat up half her face, Beatrice couldn't help but shrink back in fear.

It looked almost as if some hideous monster had chewed its way through Lambda's stomach, and was now making itself manifest through her face. An ugly abomination too horrible to describe was wearing the skin of a twelve year old girl.

Then again, Lambdadelta had always been cruel, twisted and rotten… she just did a good job of hiding it.

But Lambdadelta's voice, contrary to her frightful face, was still sticky, syrupy, sweet... and laden with honey.

"Huuuuh? What do you mean, 'if you refuse'? Aren't you forgetting your status... Beatrice, the 'Golden Witch'? Aren't you forgetting to be thankful to your superiors?" Lambdadelta's eyes snapped open even further. "Aren't you forgetting who gave you your magic in the first place? And I could take it away just like _that_."

Beatrice was no longer able to retain her smile. It slipped from her face and shattered on the floor.

She couldn't breathe...

She...

S-she couldn't...

In a matter of seconds, Lambdadelta had regained all her childish charms, and her expression relaxed into something far more easy on the eyes. Giggling, she skipped over to the chair where Beatrice sat, and patted the witch on the head.

"So do yourself a favor, okay, Beato?~ You should listen to your big sister Lambdaldeta..."

Giggle, giggle, giggle.

"Or something _really__ terrible _might happen to you. **And ****I**** can ****say ****that ****with ****certainty**. **Hohohohoh!~**"

The words were bright red.

* * *

><p>"So, Beato. Why've you gathered us all round here?" asked Battler, scratching the back of his neck. "Do you wanna make some public spectacle of turning me into a newt or something?"<p>

The 'us all' Battler was referring to were himself (of course), Beatrice (seated in her chair like a queen surveying her court), Virgilia (who looked slightly... worried?), Ronove (once more in his female form) and Lucifer (the representative for the rest of her sisters). Beatrice had assembled them together for some kind of important meeting, and although Battler was trying to maintain an unaffected air, he couldn't quite shake off the feeling something bad was going to happen.

Huh. Who was he kidding?

Something bad always happened whenever Beato was involved.

Beatrice began to cackle at Battler's words, in a truly inelegant way that was just so _Beato_ Battler himself couldn't help but grin.

Hair and dresses notwithstanding, she really was just like a kid after all.

"A newt, hmm?~" she said. "I like it, I like it! It sounds interesting!~ Maybe I should try that later, if I want to sharpen my magic up a little... After all, swords are the most effective after they've been honed beforehand so they really shine... Kikikikyahahahaha!~"

"Ihihi, well, it wasn't an actual suggestion..." said Battler, laughing nervously. "I was being sarcastic..."

"...Muuu. How boring."

"No, I'm not boring. You're just a sadist."

"Anyway," said Virgilia lightly. Her voice danced through Battler and Beato's little spat before it could get out of hand. "Battler's earlier question still has not been addressed. Why _have_ you assembled us here, Beato?"

Beatrice pulled a strange, slightly regretful expression, as though she had just eaten a delicious piece of cake and knew there was no more of it left. She tried to smooth the look over, but Battler managed to catch it, all the same.

So did the others.

"Milady?" asked Lucifer. "Is something the matter?"

"Is it related to why Lady Lambdadelta oh-so-charmingly appeared before me and asked me for a cup of tea with a truly outrageous amount of sugar in it a moment ago?" asked Ronove.

Battler blinked in confusion. "Lambda what?"

"She's the Witch of Certainty," Virgilia explained, "and an... acquaintance... of Beato's."

"Ihihi. Really? Does that mean more weird people are going to be popping up?" asked Battler, looking around the room for any hidden guests.

"It's rude to call witches 'weird'. They're of a much, much higher status to you; show some respect!" Lucifer snapped. "Mind your tongue or I'll cut it out!"

"Ahahaha, sorry, sorry..."

"Don't mind Lucifer," said Ronove, smiling warmly. "She takes her status as furniture very seriously, so she would never dream of insulting a witch... but it cannot be denied Lady Lambdadelta _is_ somewhat strange, pu ku ku~"

Battler felt the tense atmosphere shift slightly. When he looked at Ronove, he started to laugh as well.

Geez... How had they gotten so close, anyway? At this point, it felt a little like they were kids passing notes to each other in class, or something... Ihihihi...

"You know, maybe you should take a leaf out of Lucifer's book and take _your_status as furniture more seriously, too," said Beatrice, glaring sourly at Ronove. "You're lucky you have such a benevolent master. Any other witch would have turned you into fire wood if you dared talk back to them!"

Ronove bowed his head, long hair falling over his shoulders- but Battler could still see he was smiling. "Then I am very thankful that I have such a kind employer, Milady~"

Beatrice made a soft 'tch' of irritation.

"Honestly... What a bothersome person..."

At this point, Virgilia held her hand to her mouth and coughed politely. It was another reminder Beatrice was still dancing around what she wanted to discuss.

Once more, that despondent look flitted across Beatrice's face, as though she had just remembered something unpleasant.

"Do continue, Beato," said Virgilia lightly, voice motherly, soothing. "It's alright. No matter what you have to say, I will support you. Don't worry."

"Ahaha... Well... I-it's not like I'm worried about anything! It's just... It's just..."

"What did Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta want?" Virgilia pressed. "Knowing those two children, I can't imagine it would be anything pleasant..."

Battler opened his mouth, about to ask who Bernkastel was (her name sounded vaguely familiar), but Lucifer shot him a glare as pointed as the tip of her stake form. It clearly read 'shut up and don't interrupt.' Quailing slightly under that glare, Battler turned his head to look at Ronove. Ronove offered him a small smile, and held a finger to his lips. It was another command to remain silent... but it was rather more tactful than Lucifer's had been.

And, once more... (_it's__ top __secret~_) that simple gesture reminded Battler of _her_.

Battler's cheeks flushed light pink, and his heart fluttered slightly in his chest. It was the same feeling he used to get when he looked at her... Takane... when he passed her in the hallway at school...

To Battler's embarrassment, he found Ronove had noticed his blush- and was now trying to stifle a small laugh behind his hand.

B-bastard... playing around with his feelings like that...

I-it'd be so much easier to be annoyed if Ronove didn't look so pretty.

Lucifer gave Ronove and Battler a slightly suspicious look. Weren't they acting just a little too friendly- especially for a demon and a human? However, she couldn't comment on it. For one thing, she didn't want to interrupt Beato. For another, Ronove was her superior when it came to being furniture, so she couldn't reprimand him for his behaviour.

Even so, Lucifer would never have acted so friendly with one of Beato's guests... and she certainly would never have made them blush like that, either.

How was Ronove able to make Battler blush, anyway? Why didn't Battler get flustered when he looked at **her**? Wasn't she pretty enough? And at least she was actually a girl, and not just _pretending_...

The more she thought about it, the more Lucifer felt her pride being driven into the dirt.

T-that pissed her off...

"Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta just wanted to have a simple tea party with me, Teacher," said Beatrice, her voice cutting through Lucifer's thoughts. "Don't worry so much- you'll get wrinkles, and then your old age will start showing~ Kikikikyahaha~"

Battler was amused to note Virgilia actually looked somewhat flustered at that. Just how old was she, anyway?

"Now, now, Milady, it's not polite to mock a woman's age," said Ronove lightly. "Be a little more courteous."

Beatrice cackled. "Sorry, sorry!~ But, Teacher, you have to stop fussing over me. I'm not a child anymore, riiiiight? I can fight my own battles... as **you **know only too well. Kikikikyahahahaha! Do you remember how it felt when your back was being pierced- do you, do youuuu?"

Ronove waited for a few moments to see whether Virgilia was able to defend herself. However, the poor woman seemed incapable of forming a sentence; her mouth open slightly in a small 'o'.

That was when Ronove decided to step in.

"Gloating is also impolite, Milady. Please be more considerate of Miss Virgilia's feelings. We're only worried about you because we care about you. Don't treat our concern with scorn."

Beatrice deflated somewhat at this, the manic smirk vanishing from her face. Once more, she looked like a young child who had been playing dress-up with her mother's most elegant clothes.

There was something... tired... about the look in her face.

Something defeated.

"... ...Sure," said Beatrice quietly, weakly, after Ronove had reprimanded her. "Sure." She cleared her throat. Meekly, she said, "I'm... sorry, Teacher."

"That's alright," said Virgilia. "Just remember, though, Beato... you're not alone. And you can ask us for help."

"I'll remember."

Beatrice sighed, folding her arms.

There was a small, awkward silence... before she finally spoke again.

"Hey, Battler."

Battler felt slightly thrown that Beato hadn't addressed him with her usual sneering, drawn-out and far-too loud cry of 'Baaaaattleeeeeeeer!' When Beatrice spoke like an ordinary person, who paid attention to the syllable count in words and didn't stretch them to breaking point, she didn't sound like her usual self. It was so weird.

"I'm going... to change you back to how you were, okay, Battler?"

It took Battler a while to process that.

When he finally did... he felt his face, which had previously displayed concern, brighten up into a wide grin.

"W-what, really? Is... is this a joke?"

Looking more like her usual self, Beatrice said haughtily, "No, it's not a joke. I keep my word, Ushiromiya Battler- I already told you. Or have you forgotten so easily already, huhhhhh?~"

"Well... I do remember you said something like that, but-"

"But nothing. You didn't believe me? Were you applying your 'chessboard thinking' again; reflecting yourself in **me**? Just because you don't always keep your promises, it doesn't mean I'm the same, you insolent human!" Beatrice began to cackle.

"Aha... haha..."

Battler laughed awkwardly, unsure how to react. What had gotten Beato's panties in a knot, anyway?

Maybe it had something to do with 'Lady Lambdawhatever' and 'Lady Bernkastel' after all. If Beato had had some kind of fight with some other witches (that sounded plausible; Beato couldn't get along with humans, so how could she get along with witches?) that really had nothing to do with Battler, though.

He couldn't understand it.

"Hey... I'm... sorry?"

Beatrice smirked. "As you should be. Apologizing is fitting for lowly humans~ And when I change you back, you should be thanking me on bended knee and kissing the tips of my shoes. Aren't I generous, seeee? Aren't I kind? Gyahahahaha!"

"Generally those who act out of the goodness of their hearts don't request payment for their services, Milady," said Ronove, coming to Battler's defence. "Perhaps, in this case, the knowledge you have helped Battler would be enough of a reward... and he wouldn't have to kiss the tips of your shoes- beautiful though they are."

Battler always found dealing with Beato when she was being purposefully aggressive difficult. He wasn't able to placate her like Ronove or Virgilia. Instead, he only argued back and added fuel to the fire, which made her lash out at him even harder. Thus, he was grateful to Ronove for stepping in like that. He really was.

That was why Battler turned to give him another small, thankful smile.

And maybe that gratitude... was also why Battler found his breath catching in his throat when Ronove, once more, returned that smile with one of his own.

Battler's cheeks felt warm. He knew he was blushing again.

Lucifer continued to watch their exchange from a distance, her red eyes narrowed.

There was something... strange... about the way they were interacting. She could see it. Perhaps she, being a third party person and a spectator, could see it even better than the two involved, because she was observing it from afar.

Why did Battler look so flustered... and yet, at the same time, so thankful... and so happy?

But Virgilia was too focused on Beatrice to pay it any heed, and Beatrice was too concerned with her own worries to notice those of anybody else. So Lucifer was the only one who saw it.

She was the only one who realized.

"Muuu... You talk too much, Ronove," said Beatrice, scowling.

"Once more, I apologize," said Ronove, bowing his head. "But I hope my improper speech is able to entertain you in some manner."

"Maybe just a little..."

Then, Beatrice turned to Battler. In a burst of gold, her pipe appeared in her hands.

She smirked.

"I hope you get a nice, good, looo~ooong look at those, Baaattleeeer~" she said, pointing the end of her pipe at Battler's chest. "Because those are the last breasts any girl is willingly going to let you stare at~ Gyahahahaha!~"

Battler instinctively moved to cover his chest, face turning dark red.

"S-shut up! W-what do you know?"

"Ufufu~ I think the lady does protest too much... riiiight?"

"A-aaahh! Say whatever you want- I'm not listening! Useless, it's all useless!"

Beatrice's lip curled unpleasantly. "Yes, you are. I couldn't have put it better myself. Now... close your eyes... and try to remember what form you used to have. I'm sure it was very beautiful... or... Ufufufu...~ Well, I can't really call hair like that beautiful..."

If Beatrice was going to resort to childish name-calling, then Battler was entitled to act like a kid, as well. So he closed his eyes, stuck his fingers in his ears, and adamantly said, "La la la la! I'm not listening!"

Beatrice only cackled.

"Hoh~ What an interesting man...~ Or should that be, child? Haha~ Now, stay like that. This won't hurt a bit."

And with that, she brought her pipe down in a sweeping arc through the air...

And Battler's body exploded into a mass of golden butterflies.

* * *

><p>"Nngh... gaah... M-my head..."<p>

When the white spots finally cleared away from Battler's vision, he found he was looking up into the face of a rather pretty young woman. She was knelt beside him, arms round his shoulders, and his head was resting on her knees.

The moment she saw Battler's eyes open, her lips quirked into a small smile.

Battler knew that smile...

"Oh. It's you."

"Mm, it is. And, under normal circumstances, I would be rather insulted at your lacklustre greeting... However, I can put that disappointment behind me for now. I'm happy to see you're conscious at all."

"H-huh? What do you mean? I... was knocked out...?"

Ronove nodded, long hair brushing Battler's face in a way that made Battler's skin prickle slightly.

"Ahaha... D-did... Beato do something weird with her magic?"

"Considering you, as a human, would consider all magic 'weird', I suppose so, pu ku ku~"

"D-damn it. That bitch. I'm not a toy... I'm not..."

But Battler didn't have enough strength to protest beyond that.

Coughing weakly, Battler tried to pull himself into a sitting position. Luckily, Ronove was there to help him. Battler soon realized, as he fell back against Ronove's chest, that trying to move so suddenly after being hit by Beato's magic was a bad move. It was a slow and steady process, with a lot of curses and complaints about his pounding headache, but, with Ronove by his side, Battler was finally able to get back to his feet.

At least, with a little support.

Battler felt annoyed at having to rely on Beato's butler so he could stand, leaning against him heavily like that, but Ronove was furniture, right? Furniture couldn't complain about being used.

Battler didn't really follow the whole 'servant = furniture' train of logic, and he didn't agree with it, but whatever… his head felt all messed up.

At least, Ronove didn't seem to mind.

But...

It was only as Battler stood up, however, that he noticed something.

He had been taller than Ronove before, even when Beatrice had turned him into a girl... but now Battler was a good deal taller than 'her'- a lot taller than he had been before. And... although he felt sick, light-headed and kind of dizzy, Battler felt physically stronger... and he looked it, too. Although Ronove tried to hide it behind a small smile, it looked like he was having some trouble trying to prop Battler up. And Battler's voice was no longer that of a girls'.

In short...

"Hey. Did Beato actually turn me back?"

"It would seem so, yes. You're quite a bit heavier than you were before. You shouldn't rely on a frail girl like me for help; I feel used."

"Oh, you'll get over it."

"My, how chivalrous of you~"

"Well, chivalry doesn't extend to creepy guys pretending to be cute maids like you," Battler retorted. "Ihihi... So. How long was I unconscious like that?"

"How long? My... About a day, surely?"

Battler's eyes widened. "A-a day?"

"Indeed. Milady decided she would continue the third game without you as she grew tired of waiting. Well..." Ronove smiled. "It's only be expected, given her impatient nature."

"W-what?"

"Mm. The game has progressed a great deal in a very short space of time. Are you interested to see who has been sacrificed this time?~"

This comment was enough to snap Battler out of his magic-lagged stupor. Staggering away from Ronove, his legs only just strong enough to support himself, he stabbed a finger at him and said, "W-what? Y-you mean, I-I have to fight Beato some more, even though I feel like this? T-that isn't fair! Damn it! Damn it damn it damn it!"

Battler's words died away, leaving only silence, broken by the sound of Battler's heavy breathing. Battler stared at Ronove, face flushed with anger... and Ronove stared back levelly.

At least, until...

"Pu ku ku~ If only if you could see the look on your face..."

He began to giggle, hiding his mouth with one of his hands.

"Ronove," said Virgilia, sighing and placing her hands on her hips. "Don't tease Battler."

"Yeaaah, don't tease Battler!" said Beatrice. "Even if he is really stupid and gullible and it's really, reeaaaally fuuuun! But that's my job! I won't let you play around with my toys! Kyahahaha!"

Ronove continued to laugh- though, through his mirth, he was able to say, quite insincerely, "Oh, I do apologize."

"H-huh?" Battler blinked in confusion, looking between Ronove and Beatrice. "T-that was... a lie... ...?"

"Yes," said Virgilia. "You were only unconscious for a few moments- and I apologize for that; Beato should have warned you. Reversing a spell on a human can be physically draining."

"A-ah, I see…"

"Certainly, the third game has not resumed yet. Ronove was being cruel." Virgilia sighed. "Usually, he's more polite than that."

"Huuuh? That man has always been disrespectful towards me," said Beatrice, raising a brow. "Are we talking about the same person, Teacher… or is your judgement clouded by your personal feelings, hmmm?"

Virgilia's face turned light pink. "I-I don't know what you're talking about. We're been friends for a long time, so it's only natural I would understand his character... and Ronove only teases you because you act improper and he wants to teach you a lesson!"

"But acting 'improper' makes life more fun, kikikiki!~ Anyway." Beatrice turned to give Battler a hideous look. An ugly grin like a bloody wound was split right across her face. "Shouldn't you be thanking me, lowly human, for giving you your original form back? I know I said I didn't need thanks before- but I changed my mind! I'm a fickle person, you knooooowwww~ And I got a really good idea. If I wanted to be more creative, I could've given you green skin and bulbous eyes, and you would been hopping around at my feet right now going 'ribbit'! But I didn't do that, you seeeee, because I'm a wonderful person who keeps my promises! Aren't you going to prostrate yourself at my feet and say 'thank you, benevolent Lady Beatrice, for not turning me into the frog that I am'? Gyahahahahahaha!"

"O-ow…" Battler winced, pressing a hand to his temple.

He was going to go deaf if Beatrice kept laughing like that… and he really wasn't in the mood to listen to it, anyway.

If Battler had been in his right frame of mind, he would have smirked in the face of Beatrice's insane laughter. He would've stabbed a finger at her and shouted; told her just how messed up her reasoning was- 'why should I thank you for giving me my old body when you were the one that changed it to begin with? I haven't got Stockholm Syndrome, you know, and I'm not that desperate! I'll never see you as a 'Lady'- you're more immature than my little sister! Useless, it's all uselessss!'

But... Battler didn't say anything like that.

He didn't say anything at all.

Instead... he felt strangely... upset... almost as if something heavy was weighting down on his chest.

Ronove always teased him, and Battler had grown used to it; it was just part of his character, like Maria with her verbal tic of 'uuu, uuu'. But... to tease him about Beato's game… and to go further than that, and bring in members of his family, who kept dying over and over again… wasn't that just a little too cruel?

Wasn't that like going to a funeral and laughing about at the corpse?

Battler had always been touchy on the subject of death ever since his mom died when he was only twelve… so seeing his family being tortured like that over and over again felt like a knife was repeatedly being twisted in his stomach. Beatrice was throwing salt into an old, old wound, until it started to fester.

And to have that brought up as a joke, which Ronove then _laughed_ at…

Wasn't that... truly heartless?

Battler wouldn't really have minded a throwaway comment like that before. He would've chalked it up to Beato's butler being a horrible person, mainly because he was the furniture for a horrible master, and leave it at that. Certainly, he wouldn't have felt upset- or at least, not that upset.

He'd always seen Ronove as an enemy, after all.

But now Battler had gotten to know Ronove a little better, and they'd shared some friendly conversations... and, ha, Battler had even caught him before he fell over in those stupid heels...

Ronove even reminded Battler of a girl he'd had a crush on. A girl he might even have been seriously in love with.

So… that comment seriously stung.

So did that laughter.

Battler… **did** feel a little hurt by that.

He hoped he wasn't over-reacting, but… that mocking laughter… was too much.

"Hm? What's wrong, Battler?" Beatrice spat venomously, her grin growing wider. "You don't want to thank me? Well, if that's how you feel, then there's no reason for me to suspend the third game any further! It can be a punishment for your rude behaviour. Why don't we get started right now? Don't you want to see who else is lined up to be a sacrficeeee in my wonderful, elegant ceremony? Don't you want to see what stupid looks your beloved family will pull as they writhe in the palm of my haaaand? I'll make sure they get truly pitiable, laughable deaths, okaaaaaay? It'll be funny! You can laugh along with me if you want! Gyahahahaha!"

Battler's fingers tangled in his hair, his eyes squeezing shut. He couldn't listen to his.

He…

H-he couldn't…

"S-shut up! Shut up, you bitch!"

But Beatrice's voice managed to worm its way through the cracks in his fingers. He couldn't block it out!

Useless, it was all useless!

"Kikikikyaha! Yes, that's right~ That's right, hate me. Be angry! Try to deny me! That will make our game more interesting, riiiiight? After all, boredom is the only poison that can kill a witch! With a delicious smorgasbord laid out before me on Rokkenjima, I'll never get bored again! I can eat up their lives to my heart's content and spit them back out again- gyahahahaha!~ Hey, who shall I kill next? You got any ideas? It's all so much fun I can't choose!"

"S-shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Damn iiiiiit!"

Battler felt tears build up in the corners of his eyes. He hadn't been hit with the full force of Beato's twisted personality for some time... so that made it even more difficult to defend himself against her cruelty than usual.

Battler didn't want to start a game again; he didn't, he really didn't...! Sure, he wanted to wipe that stupid smirk from Beato's face, but he didn't want to do that at the cost of seeing his family- Jessica, George, Maria, that old bastard, Kyrie, his aunts and uncles- getting horribly mangled until they no longer looked human!

H-he didn't want that!

Who the fuck would want that?

D-damn it!

"B-beato, please! I understand that Battler is your opponent, but don't be so caustic! You're upsetting him!"

"Huh? Come onnn, Teacher, it's not like I'll be able to win his love or respect by murdering his family over and over~ And it's not like I have a choice, anyway. It's not like I can stop this game- they won't let me, you know! So what's the point in pretending I'm Battler's friend? We'd only end up fighting again- and then I'd hurt him even more. That's why I gathered here anyway. So I could tell you all the third game was going to start again. That was all…"

Despite her teasing, mocking tone, there was something… resigned in Beatrice's voice. Something genuinely… sad.

It was a tone of voice she had been trying to cover up with all that loud laughter and those horrible insults.

But Battler didn't care.

Hahaha...

Ihihihi...

Maybe Beato was right.

It was the first sensible thing she had said in a long time.

For the past few days, Battler had been spending a peaceful time with Ronove, and... a-and he'd actually begun to enjoy himself, just a little. But now, seeing Ronove laugh coldly at his plight like that... i-it really hurt...

Was that because... Battler let his guard down... and deluded himself into believing he had an ally?

But that delusion was gone now.

That amused look on Ronove's face... ... pissed Battler off.

It really, really pissed him off.

H-he shouldn't have been able to wear an ugly look like that on such a pretty face- a face that looked so much like Takane's! T-that was going too far!

It was probably fair to say that Battler wasn't exactly himself at that moment. Even though he looked more like himself than he had done in the past few days, his emotions were completely out of control... and he was nothing like the kind, good-natured, lazy but basically sweet-hearted person he really was. That witch had really screwed around with his head this time- leaving nothing left but the bitter taste of anger... grief for his family... and betrayal. It was a painful mix of emotion, and it destroyed all of Battler's self control.

I-it hurt...

It really did.

"Hm?" Ronove turned about, watching as Battler stalked towards him with a face full of thunder. "Battler? Are you… alright? If Milady has gone too far, I can try and talk to her for you… but I don't know what good it will do."

Battler's fingers clenched into fists at his sides. His eyes narrowed. His breathing was heavy.

Then... he spoke.

But he didn't speak.

Instead... he shouted.

He didn't have the ability to control the volume of his voice anymore.

"Fuck off! It's not Beato I'm really pissed off at! At least she always acted like a complete bitch, so it's not a surprise to hear her say fucking horrible, tasteless things like that! But you... W-why the fuck were you trying to act kind to me, why were you trying to make me 'trust' you... if you were just going to turn around and throw it back in my face? I-I bet fucking around with my emotions is fun for you, though, isn't it? Aaaargh- g-get out of my sight; get out! I don't even want to look at you, you bastard!"

Ronove's eyes widened slightly...and a truly surprised look flitted across his face, which was usually composed.

"B-battler, I-"

But Ronove never finished.

Battler _couldn__'__t_ listen to him. He wasn't able to.

So, when Battler punched Ronove in the jaw... he exercised absolutely no self control at all. It didn't matter to Battler that Ronove was still in his female form, or that Ronove was rather a lot shorter than him, and a lot slighter, and quite likely to be seriously hurt by a sudden show of physical. Battler didn't think about any of that at all.

Battler used every last bit of strength he possessed when he punched Ronove.

As Ronove hadn't predicted it, he wasn't able to defend himself in time.

The outcome was really decided before it even happened.

Battler's fist collided into Ronove's face.

At once, a horrible crunching sound rent the air; mixed with a truly pitiful moan of real pain. It sounded like Battler had managed to break Ronove's nose.

Ronove staggered backwards, barely able to keep standing after an attack like that. His fingers were pressed against his face- but Battler could see his white gloves were stained with spots of deep red. Maybe he'd managed... to seriously injure him.

In fact, there was no 'maybe' about it.

But the red haze that filled Battler's head still hadn't vanished, and he still wasn't satisfied. He was still angry- and he still felt utterly, utterly miserable.

Anger and grief were two of the most unstable mixtures of emotion, and Battler couldn't handle them both in such large quantities. He still needed to vent, or he might have broken down instead.

So punching Ronove once wasn't enough.

The small gasp of pain Ronove made when Battler grabbed hold of his hair- it was a lot longer when he was a girl, falling about his shoulders just like Lucifer's'- was more satisfying than it should have been. That led to Battler searching for more ways to satisfy himself, and quell his own pain- so his fingers tightened round Ronove's hair, yanking it from the scalp.

Then, he smashed Ronove's head against the wall.

Ronove wasn't nearly as strong as Battler was and, for some reason, it seemed like he wasn't able to use any magic to defend himself- or maybe he didn't want to be so rude as to injure one of his mistress' guests, even if the guest in question was smashing his head against the wall, and gripping onto his throat…

Ronove had no way of protecting himself- and it was impossible for him to physically push Battler away.

Battler could have continued to abuse Ronove like that endlessly, just like Beato tortured his family- and maybe he would have derived the same sick, twisted pleasure from it Beato did when she sneered at him.

But he didn't.

Something finally managed to pull Battler out of his haze, just before it closed over his head.

It wasn't Virgilia's plea that he calmed down, or Beato's indignant 'g-get off my furniture!', or Lucifer's angry, disgusted 'd-don't treat Ronove like that, you filthy human!'

It was... the look on Ronove's face... as Battler's fingers gripped his neck tightly; tight enough to leave the red imprint of his hand against that pale, pale skin when he let go.

Ronove didn't look remotely like the sly demon he was, who was always smiling mysteriously. The moment Battler's fist had come into contact with his face, that mask had been destroyed altogether; shattering just like glass.

All of a sudden, there was something very, very honest and open about the look on his face. It was completely truthful. It must have been. After all... how could anybody fake a look of fear like that?

F-fear? W-was it really...

But... it _was._

There was no denying it.

Ronove's eyes were wide; far too wide... and they seemed to distort and ripple slightly- as though Battler was looking at them through a fine film of water.

It was so ridiculous, Battler could hardly believe it- but... it looked like that was really the truth. It had to be.

Those were... tears.

Ronove was actually trying to hold back tears. And he wasn't doing a very good job of it, either.

Battler had... made him _cry_.

Battler had...

H-he'd...

"B-battler… I-I'm... sorry... ..."

Battler hardly recognized that quiet, nervous voice, but there was only one person it could belong to.

It came from the mouth of that short, cute young maid.

Her hair was messy, eyes tearful, nose broken, pale skin bruising ugly dark purple, and blood was spattered across her face... And Battler had her pinned against the wall, as though she were a butterfly in a collection, stuck to a board. Battler used all his strength to keep her in place, so she couldn't run away. She couldn't even struggle.

And that short maid, regardless of appearances... was still Ronove. Beato's butler. But he sounded, and looked, truly pathetic then... and truly pitiable. It was almost impossible for Battler to imagine that shivering wreck was Ronove at all... when he couldn't imagine Beato's butler acting in such a way at all.

"I-I'm sorry... ... H-haa..." A gasp; choking- and when Ronove coughed, red blood bubbled from his split lips. "I-I'm... really sorry... ... H-haa… A-aah…"

More laboured breathing; more pained coughing; blood and saliva rolling, thick and slimy, down Ronove's chin.

Battler stared at Ronove in horror.

It no longer felt like he was hurting Beato's butler... but, instead... he had been attacking a defenceless young girl. A girl like Shannon.

Battler froze, staring... as tears slowly slid down Ronove's cheeks...

Battler didn't know long he would have stood there, staring.

Maybe he would never have moved.

So, in the end, it was a good thing that Lucifer slashed the back of his hands with her long nails, and pulled him off Ronove.

Without Battler pinning him against the wall, there was nothing to keep Ronove standing upright.

He crumpled against the floor, curled into a small ball... and shivered. It looked like he was still trying not to cry.

* * *

><p><strong>an:** I said stuff would happen this chapter :3 And this was partly the reason why I changed the genre from humor… cause it's mostly light-hearted… but then horrible things happen XD And they get even worse… XD That scene at the end was fun to write, though :3  
>Regardless of what Battler says, Beatrice is the most to blame for him flipping out like that… XD<p>

Ronove might seem a little (a loooot) OOC, but there is a reason for this behaviour!  
>Now I'm excited to write the next chapter ^_^;<p>

Um… what does everybody think? o: Is it… okay?  
>Feedback would be lovely... from, like, the 3 people that might actually be reading this XD~<p>

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Just The Way You Are****  
><strong>Chapter Eight

* * *

><p>"Oh dear..."<p>

Somehow, those words felt horribly inadequate. That was most likely because they were. Publius Maro Virgilia was a finite witch who had been alive longer than any human could possibly hope to imagine, but not even she had the required vocabulary to put her feelings into words.

It was almost impossible.

As soon as Battler left, everything went to hell.

The insane grin slipped from Beato's face entirely. She fell back in her chair, both hands pressed over her face… and she started to cry.

Beato tried to hide it, being far too stubborn to plainly display her emotions- even to her Teacher. She wasn't always that proud; not when she was a child, who had openly sobbed over mere trifles such as breaking vases. Beato was older, now, though… and far more difficult to console.

This wasn't like the broken vase.

But, just because Beato was older, it didn't necessarily mean she had grown up. She was still a young child. She still wasn't very good at dealing with her own feelings… but now, she tried to hide them all to herself.

Virgilia knew enough about that troublesome child to guess why she was so upset, though.

Beato was getting tired of this murder mystery game. She didn't want to be the culprit anymore.

In fact… she had never wanted to play the culprit to begin with.

She had never wanted Battler to hate her.

She only wanted him to remember.

If Beato was crying, it must've been because of something Bernkastel or Lambdadelta had said during their 'pleasant' tea party earlier. And, as Beato was upset,Virgilia knew it was her duty, as Beato's Teacher, to dry her tears, and try to make her smile again.

But at least Beato tried to hide her tears.

Ronove hadn't even been able to do that.

It was hard to believe the slumped girl on the floor, hair disordered and blood smearing their tear-stained face, was the 27th highest ranking demon in hell at all. Ronove typically acted in such a composed manner, with those enigmatic smiles, light laughter and expressions that were impossible to interpret, that seeing such a sudden breakdown in that mask was shocking even to Virgilia.

It was even more shocking to Lucifer.

She hadn't known Ronove nearly as long as Virgilia had, and had only ever seen him as a strong demon she aspired to be like. She had never seen a softer, decidedly more vulnerable side to his character. Perhaps she never even imagined it existed.

Lucifer represented the sin of pride. Naturally, her appearance and the manner she conducted herself were vastly important to her. She held herself to very high standards, and though the continuous taunting from her sisters did sometimes reduce her to angry tears, she always felt embarrassed with herself for being so weak.

She liked seeing others break down; especially when it wasn't her. It always made her feel better about herself.

It made her forget just how weak she could be.

Seeing a demon like Ronove, with a split lip and tear stained cheeks, looking so vulnerable it was impossible to distinguish him from a normal human, was- sadly to say- cathartic for her.

Therefore… worry wasn't evident on her face when she looked at Ronove.

She grimaced, as though looking at something disgusting; maybe a squished animal on the road, or a filthy insect. If Ronove hadn't been a demon of hell who outranked her, Lucifer might even have laughed openly at him.

Although she was able to hold back laughter, she couldn't quite do the same thing with her sharp words.

"I don't understand it. Ushiromiya Battler is only one human. You should have been able to deflect that punch _easily_. I've suffered far greater injuries than that in battle, and I always tried to remain professional about it," she said airily, flipping strands of black hair over one shoulder. "Isn't this a little embarrassing? I'm embarrassed just looking at you."

Slowly, very slowly, Lucifer's grimace turned into a cruel smile.

Shaming others like this… really was fun. It was even more fun, even more satisfying, than piercing helpless pieces with the tip of her stake. You could hurt people with words just as much with physical violence, imagine that? Haha~

No wonder her sisters always ganged up on her and bullied her mercilessly.

Lucifer hated it… but she could understand that mentality perfectly.

Aah, but Lucifer had never imagined she'd see furniture like Ronove all curled up on the floor in a heap like this~

How pathetic, how sad.

Aaah, it was so sad, Lucifer could have cried with laughter.

Ronove didn't answer. But he had heard all of Lucifer's words.

That was evident when he flinched- and his cheeks turned a shade or two redder.

"My, my," Lucifer continued coldly. Once she'd started, she wasn't able to stop. "I thought you were head furniture to the Golden Witch. This really is a shameful display, huh? Why don't you just give up and die? Why don't you just-"

"_Lucifer_."

Instantly, Lucifer froze.

It felt as if her blood had turned into ice.

Virgilia did _not _sound happy… a-and her eyes were actually open, too. T-that never boded well… The glare she shot Lucifer was enough to make the oldest stake tremble.

"A-aah, um... S-sorry, L-lady Virgilia!"

"As you should be. There's nothing more disgusting than taunting somebody unable to defend themselves. I realize you represent the stake of Pride, but you shouldn't let that cloud your abilities to be a decent person."

Lucifer mumbled, "U-um… Y-yes… Miss Virgilia…", and hung her head.

Her face was flushed with shame.

No wonder a fearsome person like Beato still called Virgilia 'Teacher'. Virgilia really was a scary person.

"Now, go. You're not helping," said Virgilia sharply.

Lucifer bowed, face still flushed.

"C-certainly..."

"And don't tell your sisters about what happened here," Virgilia called after her sternly. "They'd only interfere, and everything would become problematic. This is a _private _matter; do you understand, Lucifer?"

"Y-yes, Miss Virgilia! I understand perfectly! I-I won't tell anybody, I promise!"

And with that, Lucifer backed away hesitantly, and scattered her own body into golden butterflies.

She felt incredibly lucky Virgilia hadn't run her through with a divine spear.

That left Virgilia to deal with Ronove and Beatrice... and Battler, too, really. Virgilia needed to speak to him at some point as well. But that could come later.

Who needed her help more?

Virgilia winced, pressing her fingertips against her temples, trying to ward off a headache.

It wasn't particularly effective.

To borrow Battler's catchphrase, this was useless; it really was all useless.

She needed some help.

She needed-

"Liaaa~ Did you call me? I missed you tooo!~"

"H-huh…?"

Virgilia turned about in surprise. A pair of arms had, all of a sudden, wound themselves wound her middle- crushing her body in a tight hug that nearly made Virgilia topple over.

Of course, there was only one person who would be quite that forward.

Virgilia ground her teeth together.

And there was only one person who dared call her 'Lia', too.

It was that annoying demon with the stupid hair and even stupider 'clothes'- which could hardly even be called 'clothes', the rational side of Virgilia's mind shouted angrily, because they didn't cover anything, so what was the point?

It was Gaap.

"You like it?~" asked Gaap, smiling, as she turned about before Virgilia. The skirts of her red dress swirled about her thighs, and Virgilia had to look away demurely, embarrassed on Gaap's behalf at how little flesh it covered.

Gaap was actually wearing something weirder and more revealing than she had been the last time Virgilia saw her- and Virgilia hadn't even thought that was possible. She wasn't sure whether to be impressed or horrified.

Maybe both.

That was how Virgilia generally felt around Gaap.

Well… at least Gaap had stopped wearing her hair in those childish pigtails, with the blue ribbons. But… how on earth could she manage all those curls? Her hair wasn't naturally like that; it wasn't at all.

How long did all that take to style?

Virgilia's mind hurt just thinking about it.

"Do you like my dress, do you, Lia, do you?" Gaap continued to coo; pestering Virgilia, as she pulled at her sleeve. "It's called _Jack the Ripper, Christmas Blood _by _Devilish Pretty_! You don't wanna know what I had to do to get this!~ Stylin' my lovely hair- which, by the way, took three hours- was a cinch in comparison. Ohhh, but I guess you didn't summon me here so we could talk about clothes and hair, right?"

"T-three hours? Really? … …_Why_?"

Virgilia frequently had to ask that question when in Gaap's company- but the response was always something like 'because it's **hot**!', so asking was pretty much useless anyway.

It was the same response Gaap gave then, too; with a cute peace sign to accompany it.

Virgilia sighed.

She should have known not to bother.

"So, what's wrong?" asked Gaap, still bright and cheerful.

Gaap hadn't witnessed the earlier scene like Virgilia had, so her light-hearted banter was somehow able to clear away the heavy atmosphere. Beatrice's shoulders stopped shaking when Gaap dredged herself up out of the floor, and a rather bitter smile spread across her face.

"Oh, God," said Beatrice, with some of her usual blunt 'charms'. "Not _you_."

"Yes, me!" said Gaap cheerfully. "I missed ya too, Riiche!~ I know you love your big sis really! Come and give me a hug!"

"I-I'm fine! Kyaaah- get off me!"

"Nooo way~ I'm going to kiss alll your tears away!"

"Kyah!" Beato squeaked- now sounding a lot more like her usual self. Summoning her pipe in a burst of butterflies, she began to hit Gaap upside the head with it. "S-sisters don't kiss each other like that! Get off, get off, get off!"

"Uuugu?~ You're such a pruuude."

"No I'm not; I just have a sense of self-respect!"

Ronove's tears, too, ceased at Gaap's sudden appearance. It was almost impossible to remain unhappy whilst Gaap was running around in her ridiculous outfit, annoying everybody.

Even so, Ronove was still unable to repair his typical mask of calm. At the moment, that was quite beyond him. His eyes were still rimmed with red, and he couldn't help but sniff slightly, wiping his eyes inelegantly with the back of his arm.

That small sound (coupled with Beatrice trying to poke out her eye with her pipe) was enough to make Gaap turn her head, blonde curls bouncing.

She had prepared to greet Ronove with a similar bright, cheerful words- perhaps even an exuberant 'haisaaaai!~', if she wanted to do it Okinawan style. It'd be a tribute to the Chinsuko she'd been eating before Virgilia suddenly, but not unwelcome-ly, summoned her. However... the moment Gaap's eyes met Ronove's, her greeting died.

Her smile faded.

Her bright blue eyes softened.

"Well, if this doesn't give me a vague sense of déjà vu..."

"Mm. I-I feel... quite the same... Pu ku ku."

"Aww, hell. Why on earth did you decide to use that form again?" Gaap demanded, placing her hands on her hips. "I thought you decided you were never going to do that again- not even if I begged and pleaded because I wanted to use you as a model. You promised you wouldn't mess around with that kind of magic anymore. I made you promise!"

"Aha… It's complicated."

Gaap glared sourly, and folded her arms. She was trying to look serious- but it was a little difficult for her do so, given those gravity-defying blonde curls, that dress, and the small bump on her forehead where Beato had struck her.

Even so, Gaap was trying.

"I don't care how complicated it is- this is ridiculous," she said. "Are you_ trying _to psychologically scar yourself? I know people say I have a weird hobby, what with my lovely collection of beautiful but unappreciated fashions, but at least I don't deliberately set out trying to make myself relive some of the most painful-"

"Gaap, please don't discuss that in front of Beato. It's a private matter," said Virgilia firmly.

"Don't discuss what? What're you talking about...?" Beato's eyes narrowed. "Are you hiding something from me?"

"Oh, nothing! It's just adult things; really boring stuff, like bills, and taxes, and signing on the dotted lines when we complete the Great Court of Heaven censuses every century so they don't send any members of Eiserne Jungfrau to come and take us away. Apparently, it's just as boring for the Eiserne Jungfrau girls to stamp all those census forms as it for us to fill 'em in, though, so it makes me feel better about it, kekeke~" said Gaap, grinning. "It's not even hot, so don't worry your pretty little head about it, okaaay?"

Beato glared. "_Gaap_-"

"Beato," Virgilia interjected, resting a hand on Beatrice's shoulder. "You and I are going to have a little conversation about your earlier behavior, alright? And I'm interested in what Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta were talking to you about."

Beatrice deflated slightly at this, a dark cloud passing across her face. She didn't want to talk to Teacher about Bern and Lambda; nuh-uh, no way.

Teacher would just make a big deal out of it, and then everything would get complicated.

Unfortunately, there was no way around it. Not when Virgilia got that kind of expression on her face.

Demurely, the Golden Witch said, "Y-yes, Teacher..."

"Good. And Gaap."

"Yes, m'am?"

"Please... talk to Ronove. Just make sure everything's okay. I'm trusting you with this, okay?"

"Yes." Ronove smiled slightly- but it was a slightly self-deprecating smile. Those red-rimmed eyes only made that smile look more pitiable. "Miss Virgilia is entrusting me with you... because, obviously, I am unable to take care of myself."

Virgilia winced.

Gaap, however, was not swayed. Instead, she said, sighing, "Hey, come on. Childish comments like that are_ my_ thing, not yours'. They really don't suit you. You should be all mature about the whole thing, like… um… um, let's see…"

"I apologize for troubling you with my own problems?" Ronove suggested- now, a more genuine smile on his face.

"Um, no, no, that's a little too… depressing. But, I guess it's better than before." Gaap sighed- then smiled. "You know Lia's only acting like this 'cause she's a total worrywart and she loves you. And you might feel better if you talk this over with me, right?"

There was a small pause.

Then, slowly... Ronove nodded.

"I know. And... I really am very sorry. I'll try to compose myself. I've been acting in a humiliating manner truly unfitting for furniture. I apologize, Milady."

Beatrice, obviously confused, could only blink at Ronove.

"...O-okay?"

"Come on, Ronove~" said Gaap, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Let's leave this naughty child with her teacher and have an adult conversation, okay?"

"I-I'm not a child!"

"Ahaha~ Getting defensive about it is proof that you are!" Gaap shot back, stabbing an accusatory finger in Beatrice's finger. "Can you deny it?"

Beatrice pulled a face and folded her arms, puffing out her cheeks.

Gaap began to giggle... and, well, the look on Beato's face was so unapologetically babyish even Virgilia began to laugh. It even raised a real smile to Ronove's lips.

* * *

><p>"Eeeehhh? I-I don't believe that!"<p>

"It's true. I swear it's true, upon my name of Lucifer, the Stake of Pride."

"B-but..." Asmodeus stuttered, anxiously fretting at one of her pigtails. She was frowning. "To think, that Battler would do something so mean... I-I thought he always seemed really friendly! He always played around with Beelze and me!"

"_Non, non_," said Mammon (for some reason speaking in French), as she patted Asmodeus condescendingly on the head. "The problem isn't that Battler flipped his lid. I'm not really surprised by the first bit."

"B-but Battler... was so nice... ...?"

"Milady has been very cruel," said Belphegor softly, finally deigning to speak up- if only to clarify a point for Asmodeus. Belphegor didn't really like involving herself in talks between the seven sisters, but she felt none of the others would tactfully be able to describe Battler's feelings. "She has been forcing Battler to take part in a gruesome murder mystery game using his own family members as victims. So... Under those circumstances, I think it's only natural he'd become emotionally unstable. When people suffer from grief, violence isn't an unusual outburst. That's why so many murders and outbreaks of violence are done on the spur of the moment, without any preparation. They're the result of extreme emotions, not pre-planning or malicious thoughts."

And, in so saying her lengthy analysis on the human mind, the Stake of Sloth hung her head and clammed up inside her shell of shyness once more.

"Nicely put, Belphie," said Mammon, smiling, as she gave her sister a thumbs up. "You're pretty good at talking when you want, you know. How'd you get so smart, anyway? I wanna covet all that knowledge aaaall for myself, ahaha~"

Belphegor flushed and muttered a few scattered words of thanks.

"W-woah..." Asmodeus' eyes widened slightly. "I... I-I didn't even try to think of it from Battler's perspective... I-I didn't think of it like that at all..."

"Demons typically don't," said Satan, shrugging. "People have weird emotions. Not our problem. We only deal with the stabbing part- not the emotional fallout after. 'Least, not usually. Grr." She gritted her teeth together, eyes narrowing. "To think Battler would be insolent enough to attack Milady's furniture, though! There's no respect! That pisses me off!"

"Everything pisses you off~" said Beelzebub softly, voice singsong.

"And this still isn't the correct problem, everyone," said Mammon, placing her hands on her hips.

"What do you mean?" asked Leviathan, frowning. "D-do you know something about Battler we don't? I-if you know something, then you should tell us! It's not fair if you keep information to yourself like that! I wanna know too!"

"Why are you so interested in Battler?" asked Mammon, raising a brow. She smirked. "You got a cruuu~uuush?"

Leviathan flushed. "N-no!"

"Was it because he said those nice things to you and said you had big booobs, huh?"

"N-no it wasn't! T-that has nothing to do with this, y-you... y-you idiot!"

"I don't think Levia's boobs are any nicer than mine," said Beelzebub, looking down at her chest. "I think they're pretty much the same. Maybe mine are a little bigger."

"Y-you wish!"

"No, I think they are... Maybe it's cause I eat more. I don't put on any weight around my thighs or stomach, but it all goes right to my chest! Come and look, Levia!"

"I-I don't wanna look!"

"But it's really interesting! Look, they're all squishy!" Beelzebub giggled, and grabbed hold of Leviathan's hand. "Don't you wanna have a feel?"

Leviathan's face turned scarlet. "Y-you're such a pervert! Stop it, get off!"

"Nobody's interested in your scraggly body, Beelze!" snapped Satan.

"We're getting off topic, guys!" said Mammon, clapping her hands together sharply. "You didn't hear the rest of my amazing reasoning."

"Oh, I'm very sorry," said Beelzebub, rolling her eyes. "What is it, great Detective Mammon?"

"I'm _glad _you asked," said Mammon, with a smirk.

Even if Beelzebub's words had been drenched in even more sarcasm than the honey she ladled on her pancakes, Mammon did like being the centre of attention.

"It's obvious Battler would be angry. But under normal circumstances, Ronove certainly wouldn't have let Battler get within an inch of his face; Ronove's way too powerful to be overpowered by a single punch from a stupid human. And he certainly wouldn't _cry_ about it after, even if Battler did get lucky. There's something very, very odd about that situation!"

"T-that's right!" said Asmodeus, nodding eagerly. Her pigtails bounced slightly. "Ronove is really strong! He has far more strength than I do- s-so I'm a little in awe of him! I-I can't believe that Battler would be stronger than that... even if Battler is really cool~ Hehe~"

"_Oui, oui_," Mammon agreed, still talking in French for absolutely no reason whatsoever. Mammon was the only one who would have known the reason for that- and probably she didn't, either. "And there's also another strange part."

"Stranger than that?" asked Asmodeus, tilting her head to one side.

"Mm. I understand why Battler would be angry- as Belphe so nicely summarized the evidence for us. But... doesn't it seem more likely he'd direct that anger at Milady? Why'd he go for Ronove? I can't really understand the reasoning there. Luci, you say that Ronove said a pretty mean comment about Battler's family?"

Lucifer nodded- though, secretly, she wondered when she'd become a witness in a trial. "That's right."

"But the things Milady said were worse?"

"They were."

"Well... Why'd Ronove get beaten up then? That doesn't really make sense... Unless..."

"Unless? Unless what? What about Battler?" asked Leviathan.

Mammon smirked.

Then, in a manner she had seen Battler do so many times with Beato, she turned about... and stabbed a finger in the air.

"This is my theory! The nature of Ushiromiya Battler and Ronove's relationship has definitely changed! That is what resulted in this completely bizarre, unexpected turn of events!"

There was a small silence.

Then, Leviathan said, "What do you mean, it changed...? How? What does that even mean?"

"A suddenly deepening of a relationship... between a human and a demon. Oooh..." Asmodeus' mouth fell open in a small 'o'- and then, face flushed, she clapped her hands together. "That sounds just like something from a fairytale! Forbidden love! I-it's... i-it's so cute! As the stake of Lust, I definitely support this sudden plot twist!"

"In most fairytales, I think the demons and witches usually die- so a romance between a human and a demon would be very unlikely," said Belphegor softly, once more giving the others the benefit of her knowledge. "For instance, in _the Tinder Box _the witch was murdered by the main character solely because she was a witch, even though she helped the main character several times and blessed him with a large amount of gold."

Leviathan pulled a face. "T-that's terrible! I-I guess that was an unhappy ending, was it?"

Belphegor shook her head slowly. "The main character lived happily ever after."

Both Asmodeus and Leviathan squeaked at this grossly unfair miscarriage of justice.

"A-and anyway..." Face flushed, Leviathan glared at Asmodeus. "Ronove isn't going to die- that's just a stupid fairytale! A-and it doesn't matter anyway! Battler definitely doesn't like guys; h-he can't! Not when he said so many flattering things about me!"

"That may be the case," said Mammon, grinning, "but Ronove doesn't _look _like a guy anymore, does he? Maybe Battler just got confused~ I mean, I'd get confused too. Ronove makes a very pretty girl, haha~"

Leviathan bit her lower lip and folded her arms. Not even she could argue against that.

"So, this is what I've concluded," said the super sleuth Mammon. "It is a fact Battler and Ronove have developed a close friendship in the past few days, yes?"

"Yes! I can vouch for it!" said Beelzebub. "They've been together _aaall _the time whenever I go into the kitchen! It's not fair! I was Ronove's friend first! Bleeeh!"

"Therefore, it's safe to say they have a friendly relationship," Mammon continued. "And when two people become friends, they naturally begin to trust each other. hasn't made many friends in the meta world either, so forming an alliance with Ronove would probably have been quite important to him- even if he didn't want to admit it to himself."

"I-I'm Battler's friend too, aren't I?" asked Asmodeus.

Mammon rolled her eyes. "Little sis, you're adorable, and most of the time you're about as mean as a sea sponge, but you kept _staking Battler to death_. Of course he's not your friend!"

Asmodeus winced, looking down at the floor. "B-but I was just doing my job!"

"Yeah, I know. But, even if Battler's nice enough to put that behind him, I doubt he trusts you. We're not on good relations with him," explained Mammon. "Neither is Milady. I guess Battler gets along with Virgilia, too- but he's been talking to Ronove longer now, so they have a stronger relationship."

"And? What about it?" asked Satan, folding her arms.

"Well... This is just a theory, but I imagine the truth is something like this. Battler grew to expect Ronove would be his ally against Milady, given he must trust him a whole load. However, when Milady announced the commencement of the third game, and Ronove did not defend Battler... but, rather, poked fun at him... That would be upsetting to Battler. And when people are upset... they do some unpleasant things... And Battler would already be feeling really confused and upset about the deaths of his family _and _the fact we kept killing him…Oh, and he got chewed up by goats in the last game. That would lead to a lot of pent-up anger."

Mammon had been smirking up until this point, as though she were a master detective who had solved a major case. However, that look began to fade when she finished her deduction.

Mammon began to rub her arms gently, as though she expected her skin to turn into crystal and break away. Her eyes were downcast.

Of course, Mammon was remembering that time...

She couldn't help but remember that time.

All of the other sisters were surely remembering it, too.

The feeling of being denied by Ange's toxin, all because they had been her friends... and they hadn't been able to protect her from those horrible bullies who ruined her whole life. They were her friends- but they had let her down. So Ange had denied they ever been her friends to begin with, and she had hurt them.

She tried to _kill_ them.

Disappointment, pain, misery... it could do a lot of strange things to the human mind, just as Belphegor had said.

"Yeah..." said Mammon bitterly, digging her fingernails into her arm. "Friendship is a pretty harsh thing, isn't it? You make one mistake, and everything goes to hell. The more you trust somebody, the more you hate them when they betray your trust. Hahaha... How sad, how sad. And... to think this would happen again." Mammon laughed harshly. "I guess forcing anger on people that were supposed to be your 'friends' is something that runs in the Ushiromiya family. Battler would be **so **happy if he learnt his little sister grew up to be just like him. But she went one step further. She didn't just try and punch me in the face. She _ki_-"

"N-no!" Asmodeus squeaked, putting her hands over her ears. "D-don't say that!"

Beelzebub, eyes teary, grabbed hold of Asmodeus and pulled her into a tight hug. "I-I don't want to hear it, either!"

"I-I'd be happier… i-if… you didn't mention that… …" muttered Belphegor, face pale.

All of the sisters looked uncomfortable at this sudden change in atmosphere. Leviathan was trembling slightly. Even Lucifer made a small choked noise of pain.

She had been the first one Ange killed, after all. That pain... surely had stayed with her.

This sudden memory of long again agony only made Lucifer feel even crueller for taunting Ronove.

"I guess Ronove didn't fight back because he knew he could easily crush Battler, and he valued their friendship significantly more than Battler did. Buuut." Mammon shrugged. "I don't know why he'd cry. I didn't think that far ahead. You know Ronove the best, Beelze. You ever see him look that sad before?"

"No, never! We have a very warm and loving friendship, so we've never upset each other that much!" Beelzebub giggled cutely, coiling a strand of blonde hair round one finger. "Plus, if I punched Ronove in the face, he'd never make me any of those delicious sugar cookies anymore. I'd lose my reason for being alive if I upset him!"

"...You really are simple-minded, aren't you?" said Satan, lip curling in disgust.

"Yes, I am!"

Beelzebub nodded in affirmation, not a trace of irritation on her face at that insult.

"Truly, this is a very interesting case," Mammon said, placing her fingers under her chin in a thinking pose. "I definitely think we need to intervene."

"What do you mean, 'intervene'?" asked Lucifer. "Miss Virgilia told me we couldn't talk to Battler."

"Yeah, she might've said that, but... What Lia doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"M-mammon, you can't!"

"Hey, don't look at me. If you didn't want us to do something about it, you wouldn't have told us this very important thing Miss Virgilia strictly told you not to tell us, would you?"

Lucifer made a pained noise, and folded her arms.

There… was some truth in that…

Argh, w-why hadn't she kept her mouth shut? Virgilia was going to spear her for sure…

This was a secret Lucifer shouldn't have shared with her sisters, wasn't it?

"Aww~ You scared of Lia, Luci?" asked Mammon teasingly.

"N-no, that's not even... n-ngh... I-I'm not scared of anyone!"

"Then you don't mind breaking this little rule, right?"

"I-I do mind it! It'll make me look irresponsible, if I ignore the orders of a well-respected witch like Virgilia! I-I have my pride as the oldest sister to think of! It's alright for you; you can mess around all you like, but whatever you do makes ME look bad in the end and I'll get punished if you misbehave! I-I don't even know why you're so desperate to talk to Battler anyway, or why you're so obsessed with his argument with Ronove! I don't know why I brought it up!"

"Yeah, it was pretty dumb of you, Luci. You should've known we'd be interested," said Beelzebub cheerfully. "Interesting stuff like that doesn't happen 'round here too often. I guess that's why you told us, too? You were secretly really intrigued too, right? You wanted to reason out why it happened as well, huh?"

Lucifer opened her mouth to retort, but... annoyingly enough, she had nothing.

Beelzebub was right.

She could only content herself with glaring at the floor.

There was a small silence, broken only by Belphegor flipping the pages of her book in the background. However, during that time... a rather painful look spread across Mammon's face. It looked a little like she had a toothache.

Asmodeus, being the kind and considerate sister, noticed at once.

"Hey, big sis. Are you... okay?"

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I'm fine. It's just..." Mammon's eyes narrowed. "I can't **stand **bullying in any way, shape or form. I _hate _it. And hurting a person until they cry... I definitely can't forgive that! That's all! That's why I want us to talk to Battler, right now. I don't want anybody to get hurt because of a sudden outburst of emotion. 'Cause we've all been there before. And it sucks. So I wanna stop it."

All the sisters turned to look at Mammon after that impassioned speech. She'd been talking in such a light-hearted manner before it had been impossible to tell- but it looked like she had a real sense of justice... and she had been truly affected by what had happened.

She had been Ange's best friend, after all.

And she had been hit the hardest when Ange betrayed her.

Maybe Mammon could sympathize with Ronove a little because of that- even though she didn't really understand his relationship with Battler at all.

"Battler doesn't have many friends in the meta world. If we wait around too long, I'm kinda worried his relationship with Ronove will fall apart, too. So we can't wait for Virgilia to talk to him," said Mammon. "We have to act. We have to."

"B-but even so... I understand your point, but Miss Virgilia said-"

"Yeah, yeah. She said we shouldn't talk to Battler. And you passed on that message, like a good girl, and you never spoke to Battler. But..."

"Ohh." Beelzebub's eyes widened in realization. "But your naughty little sisters didn't necessarily listen to you."

"Y-yes! I-if something goes wrong, it'll be our fault, not yours', Luci!" said Asmodeus earnestly. "We went to go pester Battler, and we learnt the truth from him! You never told us a thing!"

"But when you misbehave, I always get blamed," said Lucifer through gritted teeth.

"Then, I'll just make sure you don't this time!" said Asmodeus. "I-I think it's really unfair when Luci gets punished because of the bad things we do!"

"I don't," said Beelzebub, with a mean smile. "But… I agree with Mammon. This is important. So, maybe we should talk to Battler. Besides, fufu~ If Ronove is sad, his cooking's going to go to hell, and I'll go hungry. We need to resolve this issue at once."

"Shut up about food already! Think of somebody other than your fat little self!" Satan snapped, hitting Beelzebub over the head.

Lucifer frowned. She was beginning to get a headache. She, too, understand and empathized with Mammon's argument, but... But...

"Won't it seem like a bit much, if all six of you go and attack poor Battler at once? I think that will only make things worse."

"It's simple," said Mammon. "Only two of us will go. That's a nice and manageable number."

"I-I-I'm not interested," said Belphegor softly, hiding behind her hair. "I wouldn't be good talking with Battler about his feelings... I-I don't like talking very much… … N-not to strangers… …"

"And Satan would probably just scare him," said Beelzebub.

"What was that, you runt?"

"Kyaah! See, see? She won't be any good for the job!"

"Well, you're always talking in that annoying high-pitched voice and being really irritating, so I don't think you could talk to him either!" snapped Satan.

"It's alright. I already know who should talk to him," said Mammon firmly.

"Who?" chorused the sisters.

They all expected Mammon to nominate herself. She was greedy, so she always wanted the spotlight- and she was the one who felt most strongly about the matter. However... her eventual decision was a surprise for everyone.

Mammon turned about...

And then she pointed, in turn, at Asmodeus, and Leviathan.

"These two. You can talk to Battler. You're both girls it'd be easy to open your heart to. And Battler already talked to Levia, so it'll work out well."

"B-but..." Asmodeus looked at Mammon in surprise. "W-what about you...?"

Mammon smiled bitterly and shook her head.

"Nah. Not such a good idea."

"W-why not?"

"Because I'd probably get pissed off and slice off one of Battler's arms." Mammon's eyes narrowed. "I don't care who they are; I don't want to let anybody cry like Ange did ever again. Even if it's somebody who should be able to take care of themselves. I want to help Ronove. And that's a promise."

* * *

><p><strong>an:** I'm glad I finally got this one done, aha XD I had to rewrite parts of it cause it sounded awful, and I was kind of stuck on it, but I hope it turned out okay-ish…?  
>The next chapter should hopefully be up by, um… Friday, or thereabouts. I'll try and get this story finished quickly, cause it's more than halfway done already XP<p>

The seven sisters are so much fun to write altogether, though ^_^;

**~renahhchen xoxo**


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